PRIVATE  LIBEABY  OF 


E.A.ST  ZBEIRLIJXr, 

1  rs   (\ 
Book  No.    i  O   O 


I 


/  ."•'     '          " 

HAW-HO-NOO; 


OR, 


f    RECORDS    OF    A    TOURIST. 


BY 


CHARLES   LANMAN, 
it 

AUTHOR  OF  "  LETTERS  FROM  THE  ALLEGHANY  MOUNTAINS,"  ETC. 


And  without  registering  these  things  by  the  pen, 
they  will  slide  away  unprofitably. 

OWEN  FELTHAM. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
LIPPINCOTT,    OEAMBO   AND   CO., 

SUCCESSORS  TO 

GRIGG,    ELLIOT    AND    CO., 

14  NORTH  FOURTH  STREET, 
1850, 


ENTERED  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in.  the  year  1850,  by 

LIPPINCOTT,  GRAMBO  AND  CO., 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 
T.  K.  AND  P.  G.  COLLINS,  PRINTERS. 


TO 
WILLIAM   CULLEN   BRYANT,   ESQ., 

IN   WHOM   ARE   BLENDED 

ALL      THE      MORE      EXALTED      ATTRIBUTES      OF 
THE     POET     AND     THE     MAN, 

is  volume 


IS     AFFECTIONATELY     INSCRIBED, 
BY 

THE    AUTHOR. 


M103919 


TO  THE   PUBLIC. 


THE  title  and  table  of  contents  of  this  volume  contain  all  that  I  have 
to  say  in  regard  to  its  character.  My  only  apology  for  again  appear 
ing  before  the  public  is  to  be  found  in  the  treatment  which  I  have 
heretofore  experienced  from  the  critics.  With  one  exception,  the 
more  prominent  periodicals  of  England  and  the  United  States  have 
spoken  of  my  former  productions  in  the  most  kindly  manner,  and  I 
sincerely  thank  them  for  their  friendship.  With  regard  to  the  ex 
ception  alluded  to — the  "North  American  Review" — I  have  only  to 
say  that  its  assault  upon  me  was  cruel,  prompted  by  an  unworthy 
motive,  and  wholly  undeserved.  I  write  from  impulse  and  for  the 
pleasure  which  the  employment  affords.  That  my  books  are  popular 
is  indeed  a  matter  of  rejoicing  j  but  I  make  no  pretensions  whatsoever 
in  the  literary  line,  and  only  desire  the  approbation  of  those  who  are 
willing  to  believe  me  a  lover  of  truth,  of  nature,  and  my  friends. 

The  word  HAW-HO-NOO  was  originally  applied  to  America  by  the 
Iroquois  Indians,  and  signifies  the  country  upheld  on  the  back  of  a  turtle  ; 
and  my  reasons  for  employing  it  on  the  present  occasion  are  simply 
these — a  portion  of  the  volume  is  devoted  to  the  traditionary  lore  of 
the  Aborigines,  and  the  whole  has  reference  to  my  native  land. 

C.  L 

WASHINGTON,  Summer  of  1850. 


CONTENTS. 


THE  SUGAR  CAMP  13 

THE  OLD  ACADEMY  21 

ACCOMAC  27 

SALMON  FISHING  34 

THE  FUR  TRAPPERS 46 

THE  CANADIAN  RECLUSE 52 

TROUT  FISHING  57 

ROCK  CREEK 66 

LILLY  LARNARD 75 

BASSE  FISHING 83 

A  VIRGINIA  BARBECUE  94 

DEATH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS 98 

ROCK  FISHING  101 

RATTLESNAKES 113 

THE  WESTERN  PIONEER  119 

PIKE  FISHING  123 

PLANTATION  CUSTOMS  139 

FISHING  IN  GENERAL  , 146 

OUR  MASTER  IN  LANDSCAPE  PAINTING 152 

POVERTY  IN  THE  EMPIRE  CITY 165 

THE  FATAL  VALENTINE  182 

INDIAN  LEGENDS  ..  187 


RECORDS    OP    A    TOURIST. 


THE    SUGAR    CAMP. 

AMONG  our  more  agreeable  recollections  of  the  wilderness  are  those 
associated  with  the  making  of  maple  sugar.  Our  first  taste  of  this 
sweetest  of  woodland  luxuries  was  received  from  the  hands  of  an  In 
dian,  into  whose  wigwam  we  had  wandered  from  our  father's  dwelling 
on  one  of  the  Saturday  afternoons  of  our  boyhood.  It  was  many  years 
ago,  and  long  before  the  frontier  of  Michigan  was  transformed  into  a 
flourishing  member  of  the  national  confederacy.  Since  that  time  we 
have  not  only  eaten  our  full  proportion  of  the  luxury  in  question,  both 
in  wigwam  and  cabin,  but  we  have  seen  it  extensively  manufactured 
by  the  Indian,  as  well  as  the  white  man;  and  we  now  purpose  to  dis 
course  upon  the  article  itself,  and  upon  a  few  incidents  connected  with 
its  manufacture. 

Maple  sugar  is  made  from  the  sap  of  •  a  tree,  known  by  the  several 
names  of  rock  maple,  hard  maple,  and  sugar  maple,  which  is  found  in 
great  abundance  in  various  portions  of  the  Union,  but  chiefly  in  the 
northern  States.  It  is  a  lofty  and  elegantly  proportioned  tree,  and 
its  foliage  is  particularly  luxuriant;  and,  when  touched  by  the  frosts 
of  autumn,  is  pre-eminently  brilliant.  The  wood  is  also  highly  esteemed 
for  the  beauty  of  its  fibre,  which  consists  of  concentrical  circles,  resem 
bling  the  eye  of  a  bird ;  and  hence  the  term  birds-eye  maple. 

Generally  speaking,  the  sugar-making  season  commences  early  in 
April,  is  universally  considered  as  one  of  festivity,  and  seldom  con- 


14  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

tinues  more  than  about  four  weeks.  The  sudden  transition  of  the 
temperature  from  winter  to  spring  is  essential  to  its  production,  for  at 
this;  season  alone,  does;  the  vital  principle  of  the  tree  pass  in  large 
quantities  froifr  tie  'rpets-  into  its  branches.  Hence  it  is  that,  while 


*  this-  passage,.  the  sap-  has  to  be  withdrawn;  and  this  is  accom- 
jjlish'etl  'by  making  ,aii  'moision  in  the  tree  some  three  feet  from  the 
ground,  and  receiving  the  liquid  in  a  vessel  prepared  for  the  purpose. 
And  it  has  been  observed  that,  when  a  frosty  night  is  followed  by  a 
dry  and  sunny  day,  the  sap  flows  abundantly,  at  which  times  three  or 
four  gallons  are  obtained  from  a  single  tree  in  twenty-four  hours.  The 
process  employed  for  converting  the  sap  into  sugar  is  perfectly  simple, 
and  consists  in  boiling  it  first  into  a  sirup  and  then  into  a  more  tangi 
ble  substance.  Of  this  sugar  there  are  two  kinds,  viz.,  the  hard  or 
cake  sugar,  and  that  of  a  friable  character,  which  is  produced  by  con 
stantly  stirring  the  thick  sirup  when  it  is  becoming  cool.  The  taste 
of  the  sap  or  juice,  when  taken  from  the  tree,  is  just  sweet  enough  to 
be  noticed  ;  and  though  we  have  never  ascertained  the  quantity  com 
monly  obtained  from  a  single  tree,  we  have  been  told  that  a  very  fruit 
ful  tree,  in  a  good  season,  may  be  made  to  yield  five  pounds  of  the 
best  sugar.  To  the  human  palate  this  juice  is  not  generally  agreeable, 
but  wild  and  domestic  animals  are  said  to  be  inordinately  fond  of  it, 
and  slake  their  thirst  with  it  whenever  they  can.  Although  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  maple  sugar  has  never  been  manufactured  in  this  country 
to  rank  it  among  our  articles  of  exportation,  it  has,  for  many  years 
past,  been  about  the  only  sugar  used  by  a  large  number  of  people  — 
especially  those  who  live  in  the  more  thickly-wooded  districts  of  the 
States,  and  those  inhabiting  the  northern  and  western  frontiers  of  the 
United  States  and  Canada.  In  the  opinion  of  all  who  manufacture 
the  article  it  is  held  in  high  estimation,  both  as  a  luxury  and  on  ac 
count  of  its  nutrition.  In  regard  to  this  last  quality,  we  believe  it  is 
superior  to  all  other  sugars;  for  we  know,  from  personal  observations, 
that  when  eaten  by  the  Indian  children,  during  the  manufacturing  sea 
son,  they  become  particularly  hearty,  though  exclusively  confined  to  it 
as  an  article  of  food  for  weeks  at  a  time. 

From  the  very  nature  of  the  business,  the  making  of  maple  sugar  is 
commonly  carried  on  in  an  encampment,  and  we  now  purpose  to  de- 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  15 

scribe  the  various  kinds  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  beginning,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  with  an  Indian  camp.     We  are  speaking  of  the  re 
mote  past,  and  of  an  encampment  of  Ottawa  Indians,  in  one  of  the 
maple  forests  skirting  the  western  shore  of  Green  Bay.     It  is  in  the 
month  of  April,  and  the  hunting  season  is  at  an  end.     Albeit,  the 
ground  is  covered  with  snow,  the  noonday  sun  has  become  quite  power 
ful,  and  the  annual  offering  has  been  made  to  the  Great  Spirit,  by  the 
medicine  men,  of  the  first  product  of  one  of  the  earliest  trees  in  the 
district.     This  being  the  preparatory  signal  for  extensive  business,  the 
women  of  the  encampment  proceed  to  make  a  large  number  of  wooden 
troughs  (to  receive  the  liquid  treasure),  and,  after  these  are  finished, 
the  various  trees  in  the  neighborhood  are  tapped,  and  the  juice  begins 
to  run.     In  the  mean  time,  the  men  of  the  party  have  built  the  neces 
sary  fires,  and  suspended  over  them  their  earthen,  brass,  or  iron  kettles. 
The  sap  is  now  flowing  in  copious  streams,  and  from  one  end  of  the 
camp  to  the  other  is  at  once  presented  an  animated  and  romantic  scene, 
which  continues,  without  interruption,  day  and  night  until  the  end  of 
the  sugar  season.    The  principal  employment  to  which  the  men  devote 
themselves  is  that  of  lounging  about  the  encampment,  shooting  at 
marks,  and  playing  the  moccasin  game ;  while  the  main  part  of  the 
labor  is  performed  by  the  women,  who  not  only  attend  to  the  kettles, 
but  employ  all  their  leisure  time  in  making  the  beautiful  birchen  mo- 
cucks,  for  the  preservation  and  transportation  of  the  sugar  when  made ; 
the  sap  being  brought  from  the  troughs  to  the  kettles  by  the  boys  and 
girls.     Less  attention  than  usual  is  paid  by  the  Indians  at  such  times 
to  their  meals,  and,  unless  game  is  very  easily  obtained,  they  are  quite 
content  to  depend  upon  the  sugar  alone.     If  an  Indian  happens  to  re 
turn  from  the  river  with  a  fish,  he  throws  it  without  any  ceremony 
into  the  boiling  sap,  dipping  it  out,  when  cooked,  with  a  ladle  or  stick; 
and  therefore  it  is  that  we  often  find  in  the  maple  sugar  of  Indian 
manufacture  the  bones  of  a  trout,  or  some  more  unworthy  fish.     That 
even  a  bird,  a  rabbit,  or  an  opossum,  is  sometimes  thrown  into  the 
kettle  instead  of  a  fish  is  beyond  a  doubt ;  and  we  are  not  positively 
certain  that  the  civilized  fashion  of  eating  jelly  with  roast  lamb  may 
not  be  traced  to  the  barbarous  custom  of  cooking  animals  in  hot  sap. 
That  this  sap  itself,  when  known  to  be  clear  and  reduced  to  the  con- 


16  EECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

sistency  of  molasses,  is  a  palatable  article,  we  are  ready  to  maintain 
against  the  world ;  and  we  confess  that,  when  not  quite  so  fastidious  as 
now,  we  have  often  eaten  it  in  truly  dangerous  quantities,  even  in  the 
cabin  of  an  Indian.  As  we  have  already  intimated,  the  sugar  season 
is  dependent  upon  the  weather;  but,  even  when  it  is  prolonged  to 
four  or  five  weeks,  it  continues  from  beginning  to  end  to  be  one  of 
hilarity  and  gladness.  At  such  times,  even  the  wolfish-looking  dogs 
seem  to  consider  themselves  as  entitled  to  the  privilege  of  sticking 
their  noses  into  the  vessels  of  sap  not  yet  placed  over  the  fire.  And 
in  this  manner  does  the  poor  Indian  welcome  returning  spring. 

It  is  now  about  the  middle  of  June,  and  some  fifty  birchen  canoes 
have  just  been  launched  upon  the  waters  of  Green  Bay.  They  are 
occupied  by  our  Ottawa  sugar-makers,  who  have  started  upon  a  pil 
grimage  to  Mackinaw.  The  distance  is  near  two  hundred  miles,  and 
as  the  canoes  are  heavily  laden,  not  only  with  mocucks  of  sugar,  but 
with  furs  collected  by  the  hunters  during  the  past  winter,  and  the 
Indians  are  traveling  at  their  leisure,  the  party  will  probably  reach 
their  desired  haven  in  the  course  of  ten  days.  "Well  content  with 
their  accumulated  treasures,  both  the  women  and  the  men  are  in  a 
particularly  happy  mood,  and  many  a  wild  song  is  heard  to  echo  over 
the  placid  lake.  As  the  evening  approaches,  day  after  day  they  seek 
out  some  convenient  landing-place,  and,  pitching  the  wigwams  on  the 
beach,  spend  a  goodly  portion  of  the  night  carousing  and  telling  stories 
around  their  camp  fires,  resuming  their  voyage  after  a  morning  sleep,  long 
after  the  sun  has  risen  above  the  blue  waters  of  the  east.  Another  sun 
set  hour,  and  the  cavalcade  of  canoes  is  quietly  gliding  into  the  crescent 
bay  of  Mackinaw,  and,  reaching  a  beautiful  beach  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty 
bluff,  the  Indians  again  draw  up  their  canoes,  again  erect  their  wigwams. 
And,  as  the  Indian  traders  have  assembled  on  the  spot,  the  more  im 
provident  of  the  party  immediately  proceed  to  exhibit  their  sugar  and 
furs,  which  are  usually  disposed  of  for  flour  and  pork,  blankets  and  knives, 
guns,  ammunition,  and  a  great  variety  of  trinkets,  long  before  the  hour 
of  midnight.  That  the  remainder  of  this  night  is  devoted  to  feasting 
and  dancing,  and  tumultuous  recreation,  is  a  matter  of  course.  But 
the  trader  who  would  obtain  from  the  Indians  their  more  unique  arti 
cles  of  merchandize,  usually  visits  the  encampment  on  the  following 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  IT 

morning,  when  he  is  always  certain  of  obtaining  from  the  young  wo 
men,  on  the  most  reasonable  terms,  their  fancy  mocucks  of  sugar,  all 
worked  over  with  porcupine  quills;  and  a  great  variety  of  beautifully 
worked  moccasins,  and  fancy  bags,  made  of  the  sweet-smelling  deer 
skin.  In  about  a  week  after  their  arrival  at  Mackinaw,  the  Ottawa 
Indians  begin  to  sigh  for  the  freedom  of  the  wilderness ;  and,  before 
the  trader  has  left  his  bed  on  some  pleasant  morning,  there  is  nothing 
to  be  seen  on  the  beach  at  Mackinaw  but  the  smoking  embers  of  a 
score  or  two  of  watch-fires. 

We  would  now  conduct  our  readers  into  the  sugar  camp  of  a  French 
man.  It  is  situated  in  one  of  the  maple  forests  of  Michigan,  on  the 
banks  of  the  river  Raisin,  and  within  half  a  mile  of  the  rude  comfort 
able  dwelling  of  the  proprietor.  Very  much  the  same  process  is  here 
pursued  in  making  the  sugar  that  we  have  already  described,  only  that 
a  large  proportion  of  the  labor  is  performed  by  the  men  and  bo}^,  the 
women  participating  in  the  employment  more  for  the  purpose  of  care 
fully  packing  away  the  sugar  when  made,  and  having  a  little  romantic 
sport  in  the  way  of  eating  hot  sugar  in  the  aisles  of  the  church-like 
forest.  The  season  of  winter  with  our  Frenchman  has  been  devoted 
almost  exclusively  to  the  pleasures  of  life,  and  the  making  of  sugar  is 
the  first  and  probably  the  only  really  lucrative  business  which  he  ever 
transacts.  By  the  term  lucrative  we  mean  a  business  which  allows  him 
to  lay  aside  a  little  spare  money,  for,  generally  speaking  (like  the  class 
to  which  he  belongs  in  the  north-west),  he  is  perfectly  satisfied  if  the 
agricultural  products  of  his  small  farm  yield  him  a  comfortable 
living.  Maple  sugar  and  maple  molasses  are  considered  by  our  friend 
and  his  family  as  among  their  greatest  luxuries ;  and,  while  he  makes 
a  point  of  taking  a  goodly  quantity  to  market,  he  never  fails  to  keep 
a  plentiful  supply  of  both  under  his  own  roof.  In  transporting  his 
sugar  (as  well  as  all  other  marketable  articles)  to  the  neighboring 
town,  he  employs  a  rude  two-wheeled  vehicle,  made  exclusively  of 
wood,  and  drawn  by  a  Canadian  pony.  On  his  first  visit  to  the  town 
after  the  sugar  season  is  ended,  he  will  be  accompanied  by  his  entire 
family,  decked  in  their  more  tidy  garments;  and,  before  his  return 
home,  you  may  be  certain  that  the  Catholic  priest,  whose  church  he 
regularly  attends,  will  receive  a  handsome  present  of  the  newly-made 

2* 


18  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

sugar,  with  perhaps  a  small  keg  of  the  delicious  maple  sirup  or  molasses. 
And  thus  does  the  Frenchman  of  the  frontier  welcome  the  return  of 
spring. 

But  we  have  spent  some  pleasant  days  in  the  sugar  camps  of  the 
Dutch  yeomanry  on  the  eastern  and  southern  side  of  the  Catskill 
Mountains,  and  we  must  not  omit  to  pay  our  respects  to  them.  The 
very  best  of  sugar  is  made  in  this  region,  and  much  of  it  into  solid 
cakes  of  various  sizes,  from  one  pound  to  twenty.  It  is  manufactured 
here  both  for  home  consumption  and  the  market,  and  the  price  which 
it  has  usually  commanded  during  the  last  ten  years  has  been  about 
one  York  shilling  per  pound.  The  labor  in  this  region  is  about 
equally  divided  between  the  women  and  the  men,  and  considerable 
attention  is  devoted  to  the  cultivation  of  the  maple-tree.  In  cooling 
their  sugar,  or  rather  in  performing  the  business  called  "sugaring 
off,"  the  Dutch  employ  immense  wrought-iron  pans,  which  are  un 
doubtedly  a  great  improvement  upon  the  Indian  and  French  fashions, 
which  arc  simply  no  fashions  at  all,  since  the  kettle  employed  to  boil 
the  sugar  are  used  to  cool  it  off. 

But  the  Dutch  of  whom  we  are  speaking,  those  especially  who  are 
more  wealthy  than  their  neighbors,  have  a  very  sensible  mode  of 
winding  up  their  sugar-making  labors  by  giving  what  they  term  a 
" Sugar-bee"  or  party.  The  elements  which  go  to  make  up  one  of 
these  rustic  entertainments  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe.  We  may 
mention,  however,  that  everybody  is  invited,  old  men  and  their  wives, 
young  men  and  maidens;  that  the  principal  recreation  is  that  of 
dancing  to  the  music  of  a  fiddle  ;  that  a  most  sumptuous  and  excess 
ively  miscellaneous  feast  is  spread  before  the  multitude;  that  the 
people  assemble  in  the  afternoon,  and  generally  succeed  in  getting 
home  an  hour  or  two  after  the  break  of  day.  That  an  abundance  of 
maple  sugar  is  met  with  on  these  occasions  will  be  readily  imagined, 
and  we  may  add  that,  in  those  districts  where  temperance  societies  are 
unpopular,  the  sugar  is  taken  considerably  adulterated  in  whisky. 

The  last  sugar-bee  to  which  we  ever  had  the  pleasure  of  being  in 
vited,  while  once  sojourning  among  the  Catskills,  was  given  by  an  old 
Dutchman  who  resided  on  the  side  of  a  mountain,  some  ten  miles  from 
our  temporary  abode.  We  started  for  his  house  about  sundown,  in  a 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  19 

large  lumber-wagon,  which  was  packed  by  no  less  than  eight  buxom 
damsels  and  four  young  men  besides  ourself.  Although  when  step 
ping  into  the  wagon  we  were  a  perfect  stranger  to  nearly  all  the  party, 
we  were  received  as  an  old  friend.  The  damsels  were  in  high  glee ; 
we  had  a  reckless  driver  and  a  span  of  capital  horses,  and  of  course 
the  young  men  were  not  at  all  backwards  in  their  deportment.  The 
first  five  miles  of  the  road  was  very  good,  and,  as  we  rattled  along, 
the  songs,  uncouth  and  shrill,  which  were  sung  awakened  many  a 
mountain  echo.  But  while  all  this  was  going  on,  and  other  things 
which  we  have  not  time  to  mention,  the  sky  became  overcast,  and  in 
a  short  time  it  began  to  rain,  and  a  most  intense  darkness  settled  upon 
the  world.  Our  driver  became  bewildered,  and  the  first  that  we  knew 
was  that  lie  had  lost  the  road,  and  that  our  horses  had  halted  directly 
in  front  of  a  huge  stump.  Having  thus  unexpectedly  been  brought 
to  a  stand,  the  male  members  of  the  party  proceeded  to  reconnoitre, 
and  one  of  them  fortunately  discovered  a  light  at  the  distance  of  half 
a  mile.  Towards  this  light  did  the  entire  party  direct  their  march, 
and  about  twelve  o'clock  succeeded  in  reaching  a  log-cabin,  which  was 
inhabited  by  an  old  hunter;  and  as  the  guests  of  this  man  did  the 
party,  in  a  very  disagreeable  mood,  spend  the  remainder  of  the  night. 
Long  before  the  mists  had  left  the  valleys  on  the  following  morning, 
the  party  had  worked  its  way  out  of  the  woods,  and  for  a  week  after 
wards  we  were  frequently  complimented  for  the  important  part  that 
we  had  taken  in  the  last  sugar-bee. 

We  cannot  conclude  this  article  without  remarking  that  maple  su 
gar  of  rare  quality  is  manufactured  in  the  States  of  Yermont,  New 
Hampshire,  and  Maine ;  but  as  we  have  never  visited  that  section  of 
the  Union  in  the  spring  we  cannot,  from  personal  observation,  speak 
of  the  New  England  sugar  camps.  That  the  maple  sugar  usually  of 
fered  for  sale  in  the  Boston  and  New  York  markets  is  chiefly  brought 
from  this  section  of  country  we  know  to  be  a  fact,  and  it  is  one  which 
forcibly  illustrates  the  true  idea  of  Yankee  enterprise. 

P.  S. — Since  writing  the  above,  we  have  had  the  pleasure  of  read 
ing  an  interesting  description  of  a  maple  sugar  camp,  by  the  emi 
nent  ornithologist  Mr.  Audubon,  from  which  we  gather  the  following 
particulars,  viz.,  that  the  juice  of  the  sugar  maple  was  to  him  a  most 


20  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

refreshing  and  delicious  beverage ;  that  it  takes  ten  gallons  of  this 
juice  to  make  one  pound  of  grained  sugar;  that  the  best  of  the  sirup 
is  made  at  the  close  of  the  sugar  season ;  and  that  the  sugar  maple 
is  found  in  abundance  from  Maine  to  Louisiana,  invariably  growing  on 
rich  and  elevated  grounds. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  21 


THE    OLD    ACADEMY. 

"  I  feel  like  one  who  treads  alone 
Some  banquet  hall  deserted." — MOORE. 

THE  iron  bolted-door  swings  and  creaks  upon  its  hinges,  and  we  are 
standing  within  the  dilapidated  walls  of  "  the  old  academy."  Fifteen 
years  have  elapsed  since  we  last  stood  here,  a  wild  and  happy  school-boy. 
Then,  this  building  was  the  chief  attraction  of  a  little  village,  which 
was  made  up  of  a  pretty  church,  one  old  store  and  post-office,  and  a 
cluster  of  some  twenty  rural  dwellings,  situated  on  a  broad  street,  ca 
nopied  with  venerable  elms.  In  coming  up  here  this  afternoon,  we  no 
ticed  that  the  various  woodlands  on  the  surrounding  hills  were  much 
narrowed  by  the  farmer's  axe,  and  we  thought  of  the  armies  of  men 
which  time  is  continually  leveling  with  the  earth.  Near  a  large  pool 
in  which  we  were  wont  to  bathe  many  years  ago,  now  stands  a  railroad 
depot,  where  locomotive  engines  do  congregate,  to  enjoy  a  brief  rest 
from  their  labors.  Upon  the  walls  of  the  old  academy  there  seemed 
to  be  brooding  the  spirit  of  desolation,  and  we  approached  it  with  a 
heavy  heart. 

What  a  throng  of  recollections  is  rushing  upon  us  as  our  foot 
steps  now  echo  in  the  silent  and  abandoned  place  !  The  past  appears 
before  us  like  an  open  and  familiar  volume. 

"Here  we  are  in  the  vestibule,  where  we  scholars  used  to  hang  our 
caps  and  coats,  and  which  we  remember  as  the  scene  of  many  a  scrape 
and  scuffle  between  hot-headed  and  unfledged  lawyers,  doctors  and  di 
vines  !  Oh,  how  real  does  everything  appear !  We  could  almost  believe 
that  not  even  a  week  had  elapsed  since  our  own  loud  laugh  resounded 
here,  when  our  heart  knew  not  the  burden  of  a  care.  There  is  the 
same  old  rent  in  the  ceiling,  which  was  made  by  a  stroke  of  lightning, 
during  a  severe  storm,  when  the  whole  school  were  pale  and  breathless 
with  mortal  fear;  and  yonder  is  the  identical  peg  which  Billy  Lang- 


22  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

don,  "  the  bully,"  tried  to  usurp  from  us,  and  whom  it  was  our  good 
luck  to  punish  with  a  flogging,  thereby  securing  to  ourself  a  reputation 
for  possessing  genuine  courage.  Since  then,  we  have  been  a  dweller 
in  the  wilderness  and  pent-up  city,  and  have  ever  found  courage  to 
be  a  valuable  quality  in  our  intercourse  with  men.  But  a  man  may 
have  a  stout  heart  and  yet  be  poor,  unloved  and  unknown. 

With  timid  footsteps  we  move  along,  peering  into  each  nook  and 
corner  with  curious  eye.  The  threshold  of  another  door  is  passed  and 
we  are  in  the  large  general  school-room,  with  its  rows  of  desks  for  the 
boys,  an$  the  platform  with  the  large  old-fashioned  chair  in  the  centre 
for  the  master.  There,  upon  the  floor,  lies  a  tattered  copy  of  Virgil, 
another  of  Euclid,  a  few  leaves  out  of  the  National  Preceptor,  and  a 
chapter  or  two  of  Murray's  Grammar.  Having  fulfilled  their  office, 
they  have  been  thrown  aside  as  of  no  farther  avail,  even  as  some  of 
the  noble-hearted  in  the  world  are  wont  to  treat  their  most  faithful 
friends.  Here,  at  our  side,  resting  upon  its  shattered  frame,  stands 
the  identical  globe  over  which  we  once  pondered  with  a  wondering 
heart.  It  is  covered  with  dust,  through  which  we  can  just  discover 
that  the  uppermost  country  is  England.  True,  England  is  indeed 
without  a  rival  in  her  glory,  but  is  there  not  a  stain  of  something 
resting  upon  her  domain  ?  Look  at  the  condition  of  her  people,  who 
are  sorely  oppressed  by  the  mean  ambition  of  her  aristocracy. — But 
to  return.  How  neglected  and  lonely  is  this  place !  The  dust  upon 
the  floor  is  so  thick  that  our  footsteps  are  as  distinctly  visible  as  when 
we  walk  upon  the  snow.  A  sunbeam  stealing  through  a  western 
window  points  us  to  the  wall  where  hangs  the  old  forsaken  clock. 
Its  song  of  "  Passing  away"  is  ended,  and  has  been  for  many  a  year; 
but  the  language  of  its  familiar  countenance  seems  to  be,  "  They  are 
all  gone,  the  pleasant,  old  familiar  faces  !"  Yes,  they  are  gone — but 
where  ?  We  know  not  the  destiny  of  a  single  one.  The  hour-hand 
is  resting  upon  the  figure  four,  the  hour  of  all  others  which  we  boys 
loved.  Stop,  did  we  not  see  the  waving  hand  of  our  master,  and  hear 
the  bustle  of  dismission  ?  Yes,  we  have  caught  our  cap — we  are  the  first 
one  out.  Now  listen  to  the  loud,  clear,  hearty  shout  of  half  a  hundred 
boys. — 'Tis  only  the  vision  of  a  heated  brain,  and  we  are  sitting  once 
again  at  the  same  desk  and  in  the  same  seat  which  were  ours  fifteen 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  23 

years  ago.  Here  is  the  same  fantastic  ink-blot  which  we  made  when 
we  indited  our  first  and  only  poem  to  the  eyebrows  of  a  charming 
little  girl,  with  whom  we  fancied  ourself  in  love;  and  there  is  the  same 
square  cavity  in  the  desk,  which  we  cut  with  our  knife,  and  where  we 
used  to  imprison  the  innocent  flies,  which  remembered  fact  is  a  memo 
rial  of  our  rare  genius.  But  look !  are  we  not  a  trespasser  ?  for  here 
cometh  an  ancient-looking  spider  with  vengeance  in  his  very  gait. 
In  moving  out  of  his  way,  we  notice  that  his  gossamer  hammock  is 
in  prime  order.  How  like  a  nabob  liveth  that  old  spider !  Around 
his  home,  we  see  the  carcasses  of  a  hundred  insects  that  have  afforded 
him  food;  he  is  monarch  of  all  he  surveys;  and  if  he  desires  to  be 
come  a  traveler,  he  has  but  to  leap  upon  the  slender  threads  leading 
to  the  remotest  corners  of  the  room,  which  are  to  him  safer  and  better 
than  a  railroad.  This  seat,  which  hath  been  inherited  from  us  by  a 
poor  solitary  spider,  we  now  look  upon  perhaps  for  the  last  time.  But 
we  cannot  take  our  final  leave  without  dwelling  upon  one  incident 
with  which  it  is  associated.  That  is  the  spot  where  we  plead  our 
cause,  when  once  arraigned  by  the  masters  of  the  academy  for  having 
been  the  ringleader  of  a  conspiracy.  It  was  the  third  day  of  July, 
and  on  dismissing  the  school,  our  master  had  informed  us  that  we 
must  celebrate  the  memorable  Fourth  by  attending  school.  Surprise, 
and  a  shadow  of  disappointment  fell  upon  every  countenance,  and  we 
sought  our  respective  rooms  murmuring.  That  evening  our  marbles 
and  balls  were  idle.  At  my  suggestion,  the  wink  was  tipt  to  a  chosen 
band  of  patriots.  We  met,  and  after  discussing  the  outrageous  con 
duct  of  our  principal,  unanimously  resolved  that  we  would  spend  the 
following  day  at  the  neighboring  village  of  Brooklyn,  where  we  knew 
there  was  to  be  a  celebration.  We  went,  had  a  glorious  walk,  saw 
revolutionary  soldiers,  enjoyed  a  sumptuous  dinner,  heard  a  smart 
oration,  fired  unnumbered  cannon,  saw  lots  of  pretty  girls,  and  were 
at  home  again  a  little  after  sunset.  On  the  following  morning,  the 
patriots  were  changed  into  a  band  of  culprits,  standing  before  our  com 
peers  to  be  tried,  condemned  and  punished.  Having  been  proved  to 
be  the  leader,  we  are  the  chief  speaker,  and,  in  our  boyish  estimation, 
"  defender  of  the  constitution."  Then  it  was,  and  in  the  seat  already 
mentioned,  that  we  delivered  our  maiden  speech.  It  was  a  powerful  ap- 


24  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

peal,  no  doubt,  but  was  of  no  avail.  We  were  condemned,  and  our 
punishment  was,  to  be  expelled.  The  next  day,  however,  the  whole 
of  us  were  readmitted  as  regular  members,  and  thus  ended  the  affair 
of  our  impeachment. 

Walking  in  this  room  and  thinking  upon  this  incident  has  brought 
before  us  a  troop  of  shadows,  that  have  once  had  a  material  existence. 

Our  principal  was  one  H ,  who  had  thin  lips,  a  sharp  nose,  gray 

eyes,  and  a  cold  heart.  He  was  a  good  schoolmaster,  but  nothing 
more.  He  knew  not  what  it  was  to  be  loved,  for  he  could  not  sympa 
thize  with  a  single  one  of  his  pupils.  He  seldom  smiled,  and  when  he 
did  it  seemed  to  be  against  his  nature.  He  was  a  most  cruel  man,  as 
a  scar  upon  my  poor  back  might  testify  even  now.  What  has  become 
of  him  we  know  not,  but  if  he  be  among  the  living,  we  are  sure  he  is 

a  solitary  being  and  a  misanthrope.  His  assistant,  named  W ,  we 

distinctly  remember  as  the  ugliest-looking  man  we  ever  saw  ;  but  he 
was  a  good-hearted  soul,  and  merited  the  friendly  feelings  which  were 
lavished  upon  him  so  abundantly.  When  we  last  heard  of  him  he  was 
a  much  respected  and  well-established  clergyman.  And  so  it  is  that 
time  works  its  changes. 

Dearly  do  we  love  the  memory  of  our  school-fellows !  Charley  Snow 
was  a  rattle-headed  southerner,  who  hated  books,  loved  a  frolic,  and 
spent  his  money,  of  which  he  had  an  abundance,  like  water.  The  poet 
of  our  academy  was  Edward  Hunt,  the  son  of  a  poor  woman  and  a 
widow,  who  lived  upon  a  neighboring  farm.  He  was  a  beautiful  boy, 
fond  of  being  alone,  and  when  with  his  playmates  shy  as  a  captured 
deer.  All  the  manual  labor  of  his  home  he  performed  himself,  and 
yet  he  had  but  few  superiors  as  a  student.  More  than  half  of  his  time 
was  spent  with  his  mother,  and  for  that  reason  my  heart  ever  yearned 
towards  the  noble  boy.  Our  metaphysical  philosopher  was  one  Henry 
Clare,  who  had  been  made  decidedly  mad  by  too  much  learning.  A 
splendid  landscape  or  a  brilliant  sunset  he  could  not  understand,  but 
over  a  piece  of  gray  stone,  a  homely  little  insect  or  a  leaf  of  sorrel,  he 
would  be  in  perfect  raptures.  But  the  youth  who  exerted  the  most 
salutary  influence  upon  us  was  William  Yane,  whom  his  Maker  had 
formed  a  cripple,  but  gifted  with  a  superb  intellect  and  the  disposition 
of  an  angel.  How  kindly  did  he  endeavor  to  cheer  up  those  boys 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  25 

who  came  out  of  school  with  blistered  hands,  or  were  suffering  with 
other  troubles  !  Seldom  did  we  ever  hear  an  oath  in  the  presence  of 
William  Vane,  for  few  could  endure  his  manly  frown  and  reprimand. 
Many  a  soul  will  enjoy,  or  is  enjoying  a  happy  immortality  on  account 
of  that  unfortunate — no,  that  thrice-blessed  youth,  for  from  very  child 
hood  he  was  a  Christian.  One  queer  fellow  that  we  had  with  us  was 
Joe  Leroy.  He  thought  more  of  performing  an  odd  caper  than  of  any 
thing  else ;  but  his  particular  passion  was  for  athletic  feats,  such  as 
climbing,  running,  and  jumping.  Once,  with  the  aid  of  a  rope,  we  saw 
him  ascend  one  side  of  the  academy  building,  pass  over  the  roof,  and 
descend  upon  the  opposite  side.  He  could  outrun  the  whole  of  us,  and 
in  the  department  of  jumping  he  was  equal  to  a  kangaroo.  Jack 
Harmer  was  another  lad  to  whom  books  were  a  terror.  He  longed  to 
be  a  sailor,  and  devoted  all  his  leisure  time  to  sailing  a  little  brig  on  a 
sheet  of  water  in  a  meadow,  two  hundred  feet  wide.  And  so  we  could 
go  on  for  hours,  mentioning  the  names  of  those  who  were  the  play 
mates  of  our  later  boyhood.  Where  they  are,  and  what  their  destiny, 
we  cannot  tell.  That  our  own  name  has  long  since  been  forgotten  by 
them  we  do  not  doubt.  Is  it  not  foolish,  then,  to  cherish  their  memo 
ries  in  our  heart  as  we  do  ?  No,  for  they  are  linked  with  a  portion  of 
the  past  that  we  would  have  immortal — the  spring  of  our  existence. 
The  power  of  recalling  the  sunny  hours  of  life,  we  would  not  part  with 
for  the  world ;  next  to  our  dreams  of  heaven,  do  we  value  the  dreams 
of  our  early  days.  But  like  a  weaver's  shuttle  is  our  life,  and  it  were 
unwise  for  us  to  forget  the  future  in  thinking  of  the  past.  If  we  are 
permitted  to  live,  how  soon  will  our  body  be  like  this  crumbling  edi 
fice,  in  whose  deserted  chambers  we  are  now  a  pilgrim.  Years  ago  we 
came  here  to  school  our  mind ;  now,  we  are  a  teacher  ourself,  and  of 
ourself  too,  but  a  very  poor  one,  for  we  cannot  rule  the  unruly  passions 
of  our  heart.  Our  only  hope  is  in  the  fountain  filled  with  blood. 

But  if  we  remember  rightly,  there  is  a  room  in  this  old  building  that 
we  have  not  yet  visited.  Yes,  here  is  the  narrow  stairway  that  led 
to  the  Exhibition  Hall  in  the  second  story.  Cautiously  we  enter  it ; 
but  here  also  has  the  spirit  of  desolation  a  home.  On  these  mutilated 
seats  once  thronged  thousands  of  spectators;  and  yonder  is  the  platform 
where  the  youthful  orators  were  wont  to  "  speak  in  public  on  the 
3 


26  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

stage."  The  only  breathing  creature  that  meets  our  eye  is  a  little 
mouse  running  to  his  hole,  almost  frightened  to  death  by  our  appear 
ance.  When  last  we  stood  in  this  place,  thousands  of  human  hearts 
beat  happily,  for  parents  listened  to  the  eloquence  of  their  children, 
and  those  children  gloried  in  the  realization  of  their  long-cherished 
hopes.  How  vivid  are  our  recollections  of  that  exhibition  day !  It 
concluded  an  exile  of  three  years  from  our  far  distant  home  in  the  wilds 
of  Michigan.  The  period  of  return  our  heart  panted  after  continually, 
for  we  were  away  from  the  home  of  boyhood,  from  a  mother,  a  father, 
and  sisters;  and  though  we  often  visited,  and  were  under  the  care  of 
kindred,  we  felt  ourself  to  be  alone  and  companionless.  And  with  that 
day,  too,  are  associated  events  that  flattered  our  youthful  ambition;  and 
though  we  know  them  to  be  idle  as  a  tale  that  is  told,  we  cannot  but 
cherish  the  memory  of  that  day  even  for  them.  But  with  our  last  day 
at  school  are  associated  some  clouds  and  shadows,  the  most  prominent 
of  which  were  our  leave-takings  with  our  schoolfellows.  We  parted 
for  our  widely  separated  homes,  and  where  we  all  are,  or  what  is  our 
present  condition  are  things  known  only  to  the  Father  of  the  world. — 
It  is  well — it  is  well.  "  Our  sorrow  voices  itself  to  the  stranger  many; 
and  all  that  in  other  days  were  gladdened  by  our  song — if  still  living 
— stray  scattered  through  the  world."  It  is  well. 

But  the  hours  of  day  are  almost  numbered,  and  it  is  time  for  us  to 
be  gone;  and  besides  the  glow  upon  yonder  window  tells  us  that  "the 
sun  hath  made  a  glorious  set,"  and  that  we  should  improve  the  hour 
to  the  gratification  of  our  passion  for  the  poetry  of  the  sky.  A  few 
moments  more,  and  we  are  on  the  green  in  front  of  the  Old  Academy. 
Forgetful  of  the  unnumbered  feelings  it  has  inspired  and  the  pictures 
it  has  recalled,  we  are  wending  our  way  to  the  home  of  a  kind  friend, 
wholly  absorbed  with  the  gorgeous  appearance  of  the  western  sky  and 
the  solemn  twilight  by  which  we  are  surrounded.  The  hour  is  one 
that  we  have  ever  dearly  loved,  for  it  is  the  sabbath  of  the  day,  when 
a  solemn  stillness  is  around,  and  an  unutterable  joy  is  wont  to  take 
possession  of  the  soul. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  27 


A  C  C  0  M  A  C. 

UPWARDS  of  two  hundred  years  ago  the  long  peninsula,  now  divided 
into  the  counties  of  Accomac  and  Northampton!,  in  Virginia,  was 
known  by  the  Indian  name  of  AcoliaivmacJc.  An  extensive  tribe 
of  aborigines  who  occupied  the  country  bore  the  same  title,  and  the 
meaning  of  the  word  is  said  to  be  People  who  live  upon  shell  fish. 
Next  to  a  scanty  record  embodied  in  Captain  Smith's  History  of  Vir 
ginia,  the  earliest  printed  account  of  this  region  may  be  found  at  the 
conclusion  of  a  pamphlet  written  by  one  COLONEL  NORWOOD,  of  Eng 
land,  wherein  he  describes  "A  Voyage  to  Virginia  in  1649 ."  At  the 
conclusion  of  his  perilous  voyage  across  the  Atlantic,  it  was  the 
author's  misfortune  to  be  wrecked  upon  one  of  the  islands  on  the 
eastern  shore  of  Accomac,  and  that,  too,  in  the  stormy  month  of  Janu 
ary.  To  comment  upon  Norwood's  well  written  and  very  interesting 
pamphlet  is  not  now  our  object;  but  we  will  remark,  in  passing,  that 
this  document,  taken  in  connection  with  the  county  records  of  the  pe 
ninsula,  which  extend  as  far  back  as  the  year  1632,  and  also  with  the 
ancient  graveyards  of  the  region,  would  furnish  material  for  an  ex 
ceedingly  valuable  and  entertaining  volume,  and  we  are  surprised  that 
some  enterprising  antiquarian  of  Virginia  has  not,  long  before  this, 
taken  the  matter  in  hand.  It  is  our  province  to  speak  of  Accomac 
(by  which  we  mean  the  ancient  dominion  known  by  that  name)  as  it 
appears  to  the  traveler  of  the  present  day. 

What  the  distance  may  be  from  Washington  to  the  northern  line  of 
Accomac  we  cannot  imagine,  but  we  know  that  if  the  morning  cars  to 
Baltimore  are  punctual,  and  you  are  fortunate  enough  to  meet  the 
Whitehaven  steamboat  at  Baltimore  at  8  o'clock,  you  may  enjoy  your 
next  breakfast  at  Horntown,  a  few  miles  south  of  the  Maryland  line, 
and  within  the  limits  of  Accomac.  On  board  of  the  steamer  which 
brought  us  down  the  bay,  there  was  rather  a  scarcity  of  passengers 
but  among  them  were  some  intelligent  gentlemen,  from  one  of  whom 


28  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

we  gathered  the  following  items  of  information.  The  entire  length  of 
Chesapeake  Bay,  from  Havre  de  Grace  to  Norfolk,  is  two  hundred 
miles ;  in  width  it  varies  from  five  to  twenty-six  miles,  and  in  depth 
from  four  to  twenty-four  fathoms.  Its  shores  are  low  and  level,  with 
occasional  bluffs,  however,  and  its  waters  clear  and  of  a  greenish  hue. 
It  contains  a  great  number  of  islands,  some  of  which  are  exceedingly 
fertile,  but  destitute  of  all  picturesque  beauty.  During  the  autumn 
and  winter  its  shallower  waters  are  filled  with  almost  every  variety  of 
waterfowl ;  it  is  said  to  yield  a  larger  quantity  of  oysters  than  any 
other  section  of  the  globe  of  the  same  size ;  and  it  is  also  famous  for 
the  abundance  and  quality  of  its  shad,  striped  basse  or  rock- fish,  its 
drum,  sheepshead,  and  a  species  of  sea-trout.  On  approaching  the 
Wicomoco  river,  an  island  of  one  thousand  acres  was  pointed  out  to 
us  called  Bloodsworth  Island,  which  is  the  property  of  two  men,  who 
reside  upon  their  domain,  a  pair  of  veritable  hermits,  who  live  upon 
fish  and  waterfowl  instead  of  cultivating  their  soil.  Our  attention  was 
also  directed  to  a  neighboring  island,  which  seemed  to  be  in  a  state 
of  high  cultivation,  and  we  were  told  that  the  owner  thereof  had  re 
fused  the  handsome  price  of  one  hundred  dollars  per  acre  for  the  entire 
island.  With  regard  to  Deal's  Island  and  Dames  Quarter,  in  this 
vicinity  of  the  bay,  we  heard  the  following  anecdote.  The  original 
name  of  the  first  was  "  Devil's  Island,"  and  that  of  the  second  "Damned 
Quarter,"  as  any  one  may  see  by  referring  to  some  of  the  older  maps. 
Once  upon  a  time,  as  the  story  goes,  a  Connecticut  skipper  in  his 
smack  chanced-  to  make  his  course  up  the  Chesapeake,  and  as  he  was 
a  stranger  in  this  region,  he  hailed  nearly  every  vessel  or  boat  he  met 
with  a  lot  of  questions.  "What  island  is  that?"  inquired  the  Yankee 
of  a  downward  bound  brig.  "  Devil's  Island"  was  the  brief  reply ; 
whereupon  the  stranger's  conscience  was  a  little  disturbed.  About  an 
hour  afterwards  "What  island  is  that?"  again  vociferated  the  skipper; 
and  a  Chesapeake  fisherman  replied,  "Damned  Quarter"  At  this 
intelligence,  the  Yankee  was  so  much  alarmed  that  he  immediately 
made  a  sudden  tack,  and  with  his  helm  "hard  up"  started  for  the 
outlet  of  the  bay,  and  was  never  heard  of  more  in  southern  waters. 

The  peninsula  of  Accomac,  as  nearly  as  we  can  ascertain,  varies  in 
width  from  eight  to  twelve  miles,  and  is  not  far  from  seventy  miles 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  29 

long.  Generally  speaking,  it  is  almost  as  level  as  the  sea,  the  high 
est  ground  not  attaining  a  greater  elevation  than  some  twenty  feet. 
The  soil  is  of  a  sandy  character,  and  the  forests,  which  are  quite  ex 
tensive,  are  composed  chiefly  of  pine  and  oak.  The  country  is  almost 
entirely  destitute  of  running  streams,  and  nearly  all  the  inlets,  espe 
cially  on  the  bay  side,  are  lined  with  extensive  marshes,  where  snakes 
turtles,  and  lizards  are  particularly  abundant.  Along  the  sea  side  of 
Accomac  lie  a  successions  of  sandy  islands,  which  render  the  naviga 
tion  dangerous,  and  between  which  and  the  main  shore  the  water  is 
shallow  and  far  from  clear.  Two  of  the  above  islands,  Assateague 
and  Chingoteague,  are  inhabited  by  a  peculiar  people,  of  whom  I  shall 
have  something  to  say  in  another  place.  The  only  villages  in  this 
district,  properly  so  called,  are  Drummontown  and  Eastville;  they  are 
the  county  seats,  and  though  bearing  an  ancient  appearance,  they  con 
tain  some  good  houses,  and  are  well  worth  visiting.  You  can  hardly 
travel  eight  miles  in  any  direction  without  coming  to  a  post-office, 
which  glories  in  a  village  name,  and  therefore  appears  on  paper  to 
much  better  advantage  than  in  reality.  In  some  parts  of  the  country, 
we  frequently  noticed  houses  which  seemed  to  have  been  abandoned 
by  their  owners,  as  if  the  soil  in  the  vicinity  had  been  completely  worn 
out,  and  could  not  be  profitably  cultivated.  These  household  ruins, 
together  with  the  apparent  want  of  enterprise  which  one  notices  every 
where,  conspire  to  throw  a  gloom  over  the  traveler's  mind,  thereby 
preventing  him,  perhaps,  from  fully  appreciating  the  happiness  which 
really  prevails  among  the  people.  And  these  (as  is  the  case,  in  fact, 
with  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  world)  constitute  the  principal  at 
traction  of  Accomac ;  for  man  by  nature  is  a  lover  of  his  kind,  and 
"  we  have  all  one  human  heart  by  which  we  live." 

If  we  were  called  upon  to  classify  the  Accomacians,  we  would  di 
vide  them  into  the  gentry,  the  miscellaneous  fraternity,  and  the  slave 
population.  The  gentry  are  a  comparatively  small  class,  but  the 
principal  landholders  of  the  district.  They  come  of  good  old  Eng 
lish  families,  and  are  highly  intelligent  and  well  educated.  The 
houses  they  occupy  are  homely  in  appearance,  but  well  supplied  with 
all  the  substantiate  that  can  add  to  the  pleasures  of  country  life.  They 
seem  to  think  more  of  comfort  than  display,  and  are  distinguished  for 

3* 


30  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

their  hospitality  to  strangers.  The  miscellaneous  fraternity  to  which 
we  have  alluded  is  more  extensive.  A  very  large  proportion  of  them 
obtain  their  living  from  the  sea,  annually  bringing  up  from  its  bed  an 
immense  quantity  of  oysters  and  clams,  which  they  sell  to  the  fisher 
men  of  Philadelphia  and  New  York ;  but  these  fishermen  not  only 
send  to  market  large  numbers  of  fish,  but  during  the  winter  and  au 
tumn  months  they  make  a  good  deal  of  money  by  killing  waterfowl, 
which  abound  on  all  the  shores  of  the  peninsula.  The  more  legitimate 
fishermen  of  Accomac,  who  number  between  thirty  and  forty  voters, 
reside  on  the  neighboring  islands  of  Chingoteague  and  Assateague. 
They  are  an  exceedingly  hardy,  rude,  and  simple-hearted  race,  and  a 
little  more  at  home  on  the  water  than  on  the  land.  The  dangers  to 
which  they  wilfully  expose  themselves  are  truly  astonishing,  and 
almost  lead  one  to  suppose  that  they  are  web-footed.  We  have  been 
told  of  one  individual  who,  for  the  want  of  a  boat,  once  swam  a  dis 
tance  of  three  miles  in  midwinter  merely  for  the  purpose  of  examining 
the  wreck  of  a  brig  which  had  been  abandoned  by  its  owners ;  and  we 
have  heard  of  others  who  had  been  upset  at  sea,  a  distance  of  ten  miles 
from  shore,  but  who  have  regained  their  mother  earth  with  the  ease 
and  carelessness  of  wild  geese.  In  the  miscellaneous  fraternity  may 
also  be  included  the  mechanics  of  the  country,  and  all  such  people  as 
stage-drivers,  dram-shop  keepers,  peddlers,  and  other  kindred  birds. 

The  slave  population  of  this  district  is  decidedly  the  most  extensive, 
and,  if  we  are  to  judge  by  their  general  deportment  and  by  what  they 
say,  they  are  undoubtedly  by  far  the  happiest  class  on  the  peninsula. 
We  questioned  them  occasionally  with  regard  to  what  we  have  been 
educated  to  look  upon  as  a  hard  lot,  but  we  never  saw  but  one  indi 
vidual  who  succeeded  in  rousing  our  sympathies,  and  before  he  finished 
talking  to  us  we  discovered  that  he  was  a  scamp  of  the  first  water,  and 
therefore  not  worthy  of  credit.  Every  negro  in  this  section  of 
country  has  the  evening  hours  to  himself,  as  well  as  the  entire  Sabbath, 
and,  instead  of  being  "lashed"  into  obedience,  is  constantly  treated 
with  the  utmost  kindness.  Many  of  them,  who  choose  to  labor  for 
themselves,  have  free  permission  to  follow  any  employment  they  please ; 
and  we  know  of  several  individuals  who  earn  thirty  dollars  per  month 
by  voluntary  labor,  and  whose  services  are  valued  by  their  masters  at 


RECORDS  OE  A  TOURIST.  31 

only  ten  or  fifteen  dollars ;  so  that  tlie  servant  pockets  fifty  per  cent, 
of  his  monthly  earnings.  But  what  proves  more  conclusively  than 
anything  else  that  the  black  man's  bondage  is  not  unbearable,  is  the 
fact  that  they  are  the  most  moral  and  religious  people  of  the  country. 
They  are,  at  the  same  time,  the  most  polite  and  the  most  kindly  spoken 
people  that  we  have  met  with  in  our  wanderings;  and  we  verily  believe 
that  they  would  not  break  the  imaginary  chain  which  now  binds  them 
to  their  masters.  We  confess  that  we  have  a  natural  repugnance  to 
the  word  bondage,  but  our  dread  of  a  mere  idea  cannot  make  us  deaf 
to  the  eloquence  of  what  we  have  seen.  It  is  true  that  our  experience 
has  not  been  extensive,  but  we  cannot  see  that  the  slaves  so  called  of 
this  region  are  any  more  to  be  pitied  than  the  children  of  any  careful 
and  affectionate  parent.  A  goodly  number  of  the  blacks  in  this  region 
are  free ;  and  we  know  of  one  individual  who  is  not  only  free,  but  the 
owner  of  no  less  than  three  farms. 

And  now,  with  regard  to  those  traits  which  the  Accomacians  possess 
in  common.  In  religion  they  are  Methodists  and  Baptists,  and  in 
politics  they  belong  to  the  rank  and  file  of  the  unterrified  Democracy. 
Those  who  are  at  all  educated  are  highly  educated ;  but  of  the  twenty- 
five  thousand  souls  who  inhabit  the  peninsula,  we  suppose  that  not 
more  than  one  thousand  could  distinguish  the  difference  between  the 
English  and  the  Chippewa  alphabet.  In  the  two  counties  of  Accomac 
and  Northampton!,  the  idea  of  even  a  weekly  newspaper  was  never 
dreamed  of.  The  people  are  fond  of  amusements,  which  consist  prin 
cipally  of  dancing  and  card -playing  parties,  and  the  Saturday  of  each 
week  is  usually  appropriated  as  a  holiday.  Any  event  which  can 
bring  together  a  crowd  is  gladly  welcomed,  so  that  court  days,  training 
days,  election  days,  the  Fourth  of  July,  Christimas  day,  New  Year's 
day,  and  Thanksgiving  day  are  among  the  white  days  of  the  unwrit 
ten  calendar  of  the  Accomacians.  The  roads  of  the  country  are  all  by 
nature  very  good,  and  the  people  exceedingly  fond  of  going  through 
the  world  as  pleasantly  as  possible  ',  so  that  each  man  who  can  own  a 
horse  is  sure  of  owning  a  gig,  and  many  of  them  are  particularly  unique 
and  tottleish,  something  like  a  scow-boat  in  a  gale  of  wind. 

But  the  crowning  peculiarity  of  this  nook  of  the  great  world  has 
reference  to  the  custom  of  raising  and  taming  wild  horses.  Like  every- 


32  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

tiling  poetical  connected  with  the  habits  of  our  people,  this  custom  is 
rapidly  becoming  obsolete,  and  will  soon  be  remembered  merely  as  an 
idle  and  romantic  tale.  The  very  idea  of  having  to  do  with  wild 
horses  excited  our  fancy  the  very  moment  we  heard  the  custom  alluded 
to;  and  we  made  every  effort  to  collect  reliable  information  upon  it,  as 
it  existed  half  a  century  ago.  As  good  fortune  would  have  it,  we 
found  out  an  intelligent  and  venerable  gentleman,  who  supplied  us 
with  many  interesting  particulars.  The  "  oldest  inhabitant"  to  whom 
we  allude  is  the  Rev.  DAVID  WATTS,  of  Horntown,  who  is  now  in  the 
82d  year  of  his  age,  and  the  substance  of  his  information  is  as  fol 
lows  : — 

In  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  off  the  north-eastern  shore  of  Accomac,  lies  a 
long  and  sandy  island  known  by  the  name  of  Assateague.  The  dis 
tance  from  one  extremity  to  the  other  is  perhaps  ten  miles,  and  in 
reaching  it  you  have  to  cross  a  bay  that  is  perhaps  eight  miles  wide. 
At  the  present  time,  there  arc  only  four  families  residing  upon  the 
island,  one  of  them  having  charge  of  the  lighthouse,  the  remaining 
three  being  devoted  to  the  fishing  business.  From  time  immemorial 
it  has  been  famous  for  its  luxuriant  grass,  and  from  the  period  of  the 
Revolution  down  to  the  year  1800  supplied  an  immense  number  of 
wild  horses  with  food.  When  these  animals  were  first  introduced  upon 
the  island  has  not  been  ascertained,  but  it  is  said  that  they  were  the 
most  abundant  about  half  a  century  ago.  At  that  period  there  was 
a  kind  of  stock  company  in  existence,  composed  principally  of  the 
wealthier  planters  residing  on  the  main  shore.  The  animals  were  of 
the  pony  breed,  but  generally  beautifully  formed  and  very  fleet;  of  a 
deep  black  color,  and  with  remarkably  long  tails  and  manes.  They 
lived  and  multiplied  upon  the  island  without  the  least  care  from  the 
hand  of  man,  and,  though  feeding  entirely  on  the  grass  of  the  salt 
meadows,  they  were  in  good  condition  throughout  the  year.  They 
were  employed  by  their  owners,  to  a  considerable  extent,  for  purposes 
of  agriculture,  but  the  finer  specimens  were  kept  or  disposed  of  as 
pets  for  the  use  of  ladies  and  children.  The  prices  which  they  com 
manded  on  the  island  varied  from  ten  to  twenty  dollars,  but  by  the 
time  a  handsonie  animal  could  reach  New  York  or  New  Orleans,  he 
was  likely  to  command  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hundred  dollars. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  H3 

But  by  far  the  most  interesting  circumstance  connected  with  the 
wild  horses  of  Assateague  had  reference  to  the  annual  festival  of  pen 
ning  the  animals,  for  the  purpose,  not  only  of  bringing  them  under 
subjection,  but  of  selling  them  to  any  who  might  desire  to  purchase. 
The  day  in  question  was  the  10th  of  June,  on  which  occasion  there  was 
always  an  immense  concourse  of  people  assembled  on  the  island  from 
all  parts  of  the  surrounding  country ;  not  only  men,  but  women  and 
children ;  planters  who  came  to  make  money,  strangers  who  wished  to 
purchase  a  beautiful  animal  for  a  present,  together  with  the  grooms 
or  horse-tamers,  who  were  noted  at  the  time  for  their  wonderful  feats 
of  horsemanship.  But  a  large  proportion  of  the  multitude  came  to 
gether  for  the  purpose  of  having  a  regular  frolic ;  and  feasting  and 
dancing  were  carried  on  to  a  great  extent,  and  that  too  upon  the  open 
sandy  shore  of  the  ocean,  the  people  being  exposed  during  the  day 
to  the  scorching  sunshine,  and  the  scene  being  enlivened  at  night  by 
immense  bonfires,  made  of  wrecked  vessels  or  drift  wood,  and  the 
light  of  the  moon  and  stars.  The  staple  business  of  these  anniver 
saries,  however,  was  to  tame  and  brand  the  horses ;  but  to  give  an  ac 
count  of  all  the  particulars  attending  these  exciting  scenes  would  re 
quire  more  time  than  I  can  spare  at  the  present  moment.  Suffice  it 
to  say  that  the  horses  were  usually  cornered  in  a  pen,  perhaps  a  hun 
dred  at  a  time,  when,  in  the  presence  of  the  immense  concourse  of 
people,  the  tamers  would  rush  into  the  midst  of  the  herd,  and  not  only 
noose  and  halter  the  wild  and  untamed  creatures,  but,  mounting  them, 
at  times  even  without  a  bridle,  would  rush  from  the  pen  and  perform  a 
thousand  fantastic  and  daring  feats  upon  the  sand.  Few,  if  any,  of 
these  horsemen  were  ever  killed  or  wounded  while  performing  these 
exploits,  though  it  is  said  that  they  frequently  came  in  such  close  contact 
with  the  horses  as  to  be  compelled  to  wrestle  with  them,  as  man  with 
man.  But,  what  was  still  more  remarkable,  these  men  were  never 
known  to  fail  in  completely  subduing  the  horses  they  attempted  to 
tame ;  and  it  was  often  the  case  that  an  animal  which  was  as  wild  as 
a  hawk  in  the  morning  could  be  safely  ridden  by  a  child  at  the  sunset 
hour.  But  enough,  until  some  future  day,  on  this  interesting  theme. 


34  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


SALMON    FISHING. 

I  like  the  society  of  fish,  and  as  they  cannot  with  any  convenience  to  themselves 
visit  me  on  dry  land,  it  becomes  me  in  point  of  courtesy  to  pay  my  respects 
to  them  in  their  own  element. 

WILLIAM  SCROPE. 

Or  the  genuine  salmon,  we  believe  there  is  but  one  distinct  species 
in  the  world ;  we  are  sure  there  is  not  in  the  United  States.  From 
its  lithe  beauty,  its  wonderful  activity,  and  its  value  as  an  article  of 
food,  it  unquestionably  takes  precedence  of  all  the  fish  which  swim  in 
our  waters.  It  is  an  ocean-born  fish,  but  so  constituted  that  it  has  to 
perform  an  annual  pilgrimage  into  our  fresh-water  rivers  for  the  pur 
pose  of  depositing  its  spawn.  Their  running  time  usually  occupies 
about  two  months,  and  that  is  the  period  when  they  are  in  season,  and 
of  course  the  only  period  when  they  are  taken  in  great  numbers. 

The  variety  of  which  we  speak  is  a  slender  fish,  particularly  solid 
in  texture,  and  has  a  small  head  and  delicate  fins.  The  upper  jaw  is 
the  larger,  while  the  tip  of  the  under  jaw  in  the  female  has  an  upward 
turn.  The  back  is  usually  of  a  bluish  color,  the  sides  of  a  silvery  hue, 
and  the  belly  pure  white,  while  along  the  centre  of  its  body  runs  a 
narrow  black  stripe.  The  scales  are  small,  and  the  mouth  is  covered 
with  small,  but  stout  and  pointed  teeth.  A  few  dark  spots  are  dis 
persed  over  that  part  of  the  body  above  the  lateral  line,  and  the  fe 
males  usually  exhibit  a  larger  number  of  these  spots  than  the  males. 
The  tail  of  the  young  salmon  is  commonly  forked,  while  in  the  adult 
fish  it  is  quite  square.  To  speak  of  the  salmon  as  a  bold  biter  and  a 
handsome  fish,  or  of  his  wonderful  leaping  powers,  would  be  but  to 
repeat  a  thrice-told  tale. 

And  now  for  a  few  words  on  some  of  the  habits  of  the  salmon.  He 
is  unquestionably  the  most  active  of  all  the  finny  tribes,  but  the  won 
derful  leaps  which  he  is  reported  to  have  made  are  all  moonshine. 
We  have  seen  them  perform  some  superb  somersets,  but  we  never  yet 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  35 

saw  one  which  could  scale  a  perpendicular  waterfall  of  ten  feet.  That 
they  have  been  taken  above  waterfalls  three  or  four  times  as  high  we 
do  not  deny ;  but  the  wonder  may  be  dispensed  with,  when  we  re 
member  that  a  waterfall  seldom  occurs,  which  does  not  contain  a  num 
ber  of  resting-places  for  the  salmon  to  take  advantage  of  while  on  his 
upward  journey. 

Contrary  to  the  prevailing  opinion,  we  contend  that  the  salmon  is 
possessed  of  a  short  memory.  While  fishing  in  a  small  river  on  a 
certain  occasion,  owing  to  the  bad  position  in  which  we  were  placed, 
we  lost  a  favorite  fly,  and  it  so  happened  that  in  about  one  hour  after 
wards  a  fish  was  taken  by  a  brother  angler,  in  whose  mouth  was  found 
the  identical  fly  that  we  had  lost. 

This  fish  is  a  voracious  feeder,  and  an  epicure  in  his  tastes,  for  his 
food  is  composed  principally  of  small  and  delicate  fish,  and  the  sea- 
sand  eel ;  but  it  is  a  fact  that  the  surest  bait  to  capture  him  with  is 
the  common  red  worm. 

The  salmon  is  a  shy  fish,  and  as  he  invariably  inhabits  the  clearest 
of  water,  it  is  always  important  that  the  angler's  movements  should  be 
particularly  cautious ;  and  in  throwing  the  fly,  he  should  throw  it  clear 
across  the  stream,  if  possible  ;  and  after  letting  it  float  down  for  a  few 
yards  he  should  gradually  draw  it  back  again,  with  an  upward  tend 
ency. 

Like  all  other  fish  that  swim  near  the  surface  of  the  water,  the  sal 
mon  cannot  be  eaten  in  too  fresh  a  condition  ;  and,  judging  from  our 
own  experience,  they  may  be  eaten  three  times  a-day,  for  a  whole  sea 
son,  and  at  the  end  of  their  running  time  they  will  gratify  the  palate 
more  effectually  than  when  first  brought  upon  the  table. 

The  process  of  spawning  has  been  described  by  various  writers,  and 
the  general  conclusion  is  as  follows.  On  reaching  a  suitable  spot  for 
that  purpose,  the  loving  pair  manage  to  dig  a  furrow  some  six  feet 
long,  in  the  sand  or  gravel,  into  which  the  male  ejects  his  milt,  and 
the  female  her  spawn ;  this  they  cover  with  their  tails,  and  leaving 
this  deposit  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  liquid  elements,  betake  them 
selves  to  the  sea  whence  they  came.  This  spawning  operation  usually 
occupies  about  ten  days,  and  takes  place  in  the  autumn ;  and  when  the 
spring-time  comes  the  salmon  are  born,  and,  under  "  their  Creator's 


36  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

protection/'  are  swept  into  the  sea,  where  they  come  to  their  natural 
estate  by  the  following  spring,  and  ascend  their  native  rivers  to  revisit 
the  haunts  of  their  minnowhood.  And  it  is  a  singular  fact,  that  the 
salmon  leaves  the  sea  in  an  emaciated  condition,  acquires  his  fatness 
while  going  up  a  river,  and  subsequently  returns  to  the  sea  for  the 
purpose  of  recruiting  his  wonted  health  and  beauty. 

The  salmon  is  a  restless  fish,  and  seldom  found  a  second  time  in 
exactly  the  same  spot ;  but  his  principal  traveling  time  is  in  the  night, 
when  the  stars  are  shining  brightly  and  all  the  world  is  wrapt  in  silence. 

The  salmon  come  up  from  the  sea  during  a  flood  or  a  freshet,  and 
in  ascending  a  river,  they  invariably  tarry  for  a  short  time  in  all  the 
pools  of  the  same.  Their  object  in  doing  this  has  not  been  clearly 
defined ;  but  is  it  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  they  are  influenced  by 
the  same  motives  which  induce  a  human  traveler  to  tarry  in  a  pleasant 
valley  ?  The  only  difference  is,  that  when  the  man  would  resume  his 
journey  he  waits  for  a  sunny  day,  while  the  salmon  prefers  a  rainy  day 
to  start  upon  his  pilgrimage.  The  best  places  to  fish  for  salmon  are 
the  shallows  above  the  deep  pools;  and  it  is  a  settled  fact,  that  after 
you  have  killed  a  fish,  you  are  always  sure  to  find  in  the  course  of  a 
few  hours  another  individual  in  the  same  place.  It  would  thus  seem 
that  they  are  partial  to  certain  localities.  Another  thing  that  should 
be  remembered  is,  that  salmon  never  take  the  natural  fly  while  it  is 
in  a  stationary  position,  or  when  floating  down  stream ;  hence  the  great 
importance  of  carrying  the  artificial  fly  directly  across  the  stream,  or 
in  an  upward  oblique  direction.  When  you  have  hooked  a  salmon,  it 
is  a  bad  plan  to  strain  upon  him  in  any  degree,  unless  he  is  swimming 
towards  a  dangerous  ground,  and  even  then  this  is  an  unsafe  experi 
ment.  The  better  plan  is  to  throw  a  pebble  in  front  of  him,  for  the 
purpose  of  frightening  him  back,  and  you  should  manage  to  keep  as 
near  his  royal  person  as  practicable.  Another  peculiarity  of  the  salmon 
is  the  fact  that  (excepting  .the  shad)  it  is  the  only  fish  which  seems  to 
be  perfectly  at  home  in  the  salt  sea,  as  well  as  in  the  fresh  springs  among 
the  mountains.  It  is  also  singular  in  the  color  of  its  flesh,  which  is  a 
deep  pink,  and  the  texture  of  its  flesh  is  remarkably  solid :  the  latter 
circumstance  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  you  cannot  carry  a  salmon  by 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  37 

the  gills,  as. you  can  other  fish,  without  tearing  and  mutilating  him  to 
an  uncommon  degree. 

In  olden  times  there  was  hardly  a  river  on  the  eastern  coast  of  the 
United  States,  north  of  Virginia,  which  was  not  annually  visited  by 
the  salmon  ;  but  those  days  are  for  ever  departed,  and  it  is  but  seldom 
that  we  now  hear  of  their  being  taken  in  any  river  south  of  Boston. 
They  frequented,  in  considerable  numbers,  the  Susquehanna,  the 
Delaware,  and  North  rivers,  but  were  eminently  abundant  in  the  Con 
necticut  and  the  Thames.  On  the  former  stream  it  used  to  be  stipu 
lated  by  the  day-laborer,  that  he  should  have  salmon  placed  upon  his 
table  only  four  times  in  the  week  ;  and  we  have  been  told  by  an  old 
man  residing  on  the  latter  stream,  that  the  value  of  three  salmon,  forty 
years  ago,  was  equal  to  one  shad — the  former  were  so  much  more 
abundant  than  the  latter.  But  steamboats,  and  the  din  of  cities,  have 
long  since  frightened  the  salmon  from  their  ancient  haunts,  and  the 
beautiful  aborigines  of  our  rivers  now  seek  for  undisturbed  homes  in 
more  northern  waters.  Once  in  a  while,  even  at  the  present  time,  the 
shad  fishermen  of  the  Merrimac  and  Saco  succeed  in  netting  a  small 
salmon ;  but  in  the  Androscoggin,  Kennebec,  and  Penobscot,  they 
are  yet  somewhat  abundant,  and  these  are  the  rivers  which  chiefly 
supply  our  city  markets  with  the  fresh  article. 

As  the  ice  melts  away  in  the  spring,  says  Dr.  <J.  V.  C.  Smith,  in 
his  interesting  little  book  on  the  Fishes  of  Massachusetts,  they  rush 
to  the  rivers  from  the  ocean ;  and  it  is  an  undeniable  fact,  confirmed 
by  successful  experiments,  that  they  visit,  as  far  as  possible,  the  very 
streams  in  which  they  were  born.  When  undisturbed,  they  swim 
slowly  in  large  schools  near  the  surface ;  yet  they  are  so  timid,  that  if 
suddenly  frightened,  the  whole  column  will  turn  directly  back  towards 
the  sea.  It  has  also  been  proven  that  a  salmon  can  scud  at  the  sur 
prising  velocity  of  thirty  miles  an  hour.  The  young  are  about  a  foot 
long  when  they  visit  the  rivers  for  the  first  time ;  and  at  the  end  of 
two  years,  according  to  Mr.  Smith,  they  weigh  five  or  six  pounds,  and 
attain  their  full  growth  in  about  six  years.  When  running  up  the 
rivers  they  are  in  a  fat  condition ;  after  that  period,  having  deposited 
their  spawn,  they  return  to  the  sea,  lean  and  emaciated.  In  extremely 
warm  weather,  and  while  yet  in  the  salt  water,  they  arc  often  greatly 
4 


38  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

annoyed  by  a  black  and  flat-looking  insect,  which  is  apt  to  endanger 
their  lives.  As  soon,  however,  as  the  salmon  reaches  the  fresh  water, 
this  insect  drops  off,  and  the  fish  rapidly  improves. 

The  streams  which  these  fish  ascend  are  invariably  distinguished 
for  their  rocky  and  gravelly  bottoms,  for  the  coldness  and  purity  of 
their  water,  and  for  their  rapid  currents.  Those  which  afford  the  an 
gler  the  most  sport,  are  rather  small  and  shallow,  and  empty  into  tide 
water  rivers ;  while  in  these  they  are  chiefly  taken  with  the  net.  The 
tributaries  of  the  Androscoggin,  Kennebec,  and  Penobscot,  having  all 
been  blocked  up  with  mill-dams,  the  salmon  is  only  found  in  the  prin 
cipal  estuaries ;  and  as  these  are  large  and  deep,  they  are  of  no  value 
to  the  angler,  and  will  not  be  many  years  longer  even  to  the  fishermen 
who  capture  them  for  the  purpose  of  making  money.  So  far  as  our 
own  experience  goes,  we  only  know  of  one  river,  within  the  limits  of 
the  Union,  which  affords  the  angler  good  salmon  fishing,  and  that  is 
the  Aroostook,  in  Maine.  We  have  been  informed,  however,  that  the 
regular  salmon  is  taken  in  many  of  those  rivers,  in  the  northern  part 
of  New  York,  which  empty  into  Lake  Ontario  and  the  upper  St.  Law 
rence,  but  we  are  compelled  to  doubt  the  truth  of  the  statement.  Such 
may  have  been  the  case  in  former  times,  but  we  think  it  is  not  so  now. 
Salmon  are  not  taken  at  Montreal,  and  it  is  therefore  unreasonable  to 
suppose  that  they  ever  reach  the  fountain-head  of  the  St.  Lawrence ; 
this  portion  of  the  great  river  is  too  far  from  the  ocean,  and  too  exten 
sively  navigated,  and  the  water  is  not  sufficiently  clear.  That  they 
once  ascended  to  the  Ottawa  river  and  Lake  Ontario  we  have  not  a 
doubt,  but  those  were  in  the  times  of  the  days  of  old.  Another  pre 
vailing  opinion  with  regard  to  salmon,  we  have  it  in  our  power  de 
cidedly  to  contradict.  Mr.  John  J.  Brown,  in  his  useful  little  book 
entitled  the  "  American  Angler's  Guide,"  makes  the  remark,  that 
salmon  are  found  in  great  abundance  in  the  Mississippi  and  its  mag 
nificent  tributaries.  Such  is  not  the  fact,  and  we  are  sure  that  if  "our 
brother"  had  ever  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  muddy  Mississippi,  he  would 
have  known  by  intuition  that  such  could  not  be  the  case.  Nor  is  the 
salmon  partial  to  any  of  the  rivers  of  the  far  South,  as  many  people 
suppose,  not  being  known  in  any  river  emptying  into  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico;  so  that  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  is  just  this,  that 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  39 

the  salmon  fisheries  of  the  United  States  proper  are  of  but  little  con 
sequence  when  compared  with  many  other  countries  on  the  globe. 
When  we  come  to  speak  of  our  territories,  however,  we  have  a  very 
different  story  to  relate,  for  a  finer  river  for  salmon  does  not  water  any 
country  than  the  mighty  Columbia — that  same  Columbia  where  a  cer 
tain  navigator  once  purchased  a  ton  of  salmon  for  a  jack-knife.  But 
that  river  is  somewhat  too  far  off  to  expect  an  introduction  in  our 
present  essay,  and  we  will  therefore  take  our  reader,  by  his  permission, 
into  the  neighboring  Provinces  of  Canada,  New  Brunswick,  and  Nova 
Scotia. 

Before  proceeding  another  step,  however,  we  must  insert  a  para 
graph  about  the  various  methods  employed  to  capture  the  salmon. 
The  Indians,  and  many  white  barbarians,  spear  them  by  torch-light ; 
and  the  thousands  sent  to  market  in  a  smoked  condition  are  taken  in 
nets  and  seines  of  various  kinds.  But  the  only  instruments  used  by 
the  scientific  angler  are  a  rod  and  reel,  three  hundred  feet  of  hair  or 
silk  line,  and  an  assortment  of  artificial  flies.  Our  books  tell  us  that 
a  gaudy  fly  is  commonly  the  best  killer,  but  our  own  experience  in 
clines  us  to  the  belief  that  a  large  brown  or  black  hackle,  or  any  neatly- 
made  gray  fly,  is  much  preferable  to  the  finest  fancy  specimens.  As 
to  bait-fishing  for  salmon,  we  have  never  tried  it — we  care  less  about 
it  than  we  know,  and  we  know  but  precious  little.  Next  to  a  delicately 
made  fly,  the  most  important  thing  to  consider  is  the  leader  of  the 
line,  which  should  be  made  of  the  best  material  (a  twisted  gut),  and 
at  least  five  feet  in  length.  But  if  the  angler  is  afraid  of  wading  in  a 
cold  and  even  a  deep  stream,  the  very  best  of  tackle  will  avail  him 
nothing.  It  is  but  seldom  that  a  large  salmon  can  be  taken,  without 
costing  the  captor  a  good  deal  of  hard  labor,  and  a  number  of  duckings. 
And  when  the  character  of  the  fish  is  remembered,  this  assertion  will 
not  appear  strange.  Not  only  is  the  salmon  a  large  fish,  but  he  is  re 
markable  for  his  strength  and  lightning  quickness.  Owing  to  his  ex 
treme  carefulness  in  meddling  with  matters  that  may  injure  him,  it  is 
necessary  to  use  the  most  delicate  tackle,  in  the  most  cautious  and 
expert  manner.  To  pull  a  salmon  in  shore,  immediately  after  he  has 
been  hooked,  will  never  do;  the  expert  way  is  to  give  him  all  the  line 
he  wants,  never  forgetting  in  the  mean  time  that  it  must  be  kept  per- 


40  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

fectly  taut.  And  this  must  be  done  continually,  in  spite  of  every 
obstacle,  not  only  when  the  fish  performs  his  splendid  leaps  out  of  the 
water,  but  also  when  he  is  stemming  the  current  of  the  stream,  trying 
to  break  the  naughty  hook  against  a  rock,  or  when  he  has  made  a 
sudden  wheel,  and  is  gliding  down  the  stream  with  the  swiftness  of  a 
falling  star.  The  last  effort  to  get  away,  which  I  have  mentioned,  is 
usually  the  last  that  the  salmon  makes,  and  it  is  therefore  of  the  highest 
importance  that  the  angler  should  manage  him  correctly  when  going 
down.  Narrow  rifts,  and  even  waterfalls,  do  not  stop  the  salmon; 
and  bushes,  deep  holes,  slippery  bottoms,  and  rocky  shores  must  not 
impede  the  course  of  the  angler  who  would  secure  a  prize.  And 
though  the  salmon  is  a  powerful  fish,  he  is  not  long-winded,  and  by 
his  great  impatience  is  apt  to  drown  himself  much  sooner  than  one 
would  suppose.  The  times  most  favorable  for  taking  this  fish  are 
early  in  the  morning  and  late  in  the  afternoon ;  and  when  the  angler 
reaches  his  fishing  ground,  and  discovers  the  salmon  leaping  out  of  the 
water,  as  if  too  happy  to  remain  quiet,  he  may  then  calculate  upon 
rare  sport.  As  to  the  pleasure  of  capturing  a  fine  salmon,  we  conceive 
it  to  be  more  exquisite  than  any  other  sport  in  the  world.  We  have 
killed  a  buffalo  on  the  head  waters  of  the  St.  Peter's  river,  but  we 
had  every  advantage  over  the  pursued,  for  we  rode  a  well-trained 
horse,  and  carried  a  double-barreled  gun.  We  have  seen  John  Cheney 
bring  to  the  earth  a  mighty  bull  moose,  among  the  Adirondac  mount 
ains,  but  he  was  assisted  by  a  pair  of  terrible  dogs,  and  carried  a  heavy 
rifle.  But  neither  of  these  exploits  is  to  be  compared  with  that  of 
capturing  a  twenty  pound  salmon,  with  a  line  almost  as  fine  as  the 
flowing  hair  of  a  beautiful  woman.  When  we  offer  a  fly  to  a  salmon, 
we  take  no  undue  advantage  of  him,  but  allow  him  to  follow  his  own 
free  will;  and  when  he  has  hooked  himself,  we  give  him  permission 
to  match  his  strength  against  our  skill.  Does  not  this  fact  prove  that 
salmon  fishing  is  distinguished  for  its  humanity,  if  not  for  \isfisJianity? 
We  have  set  in  a  cariole  and  driven  a  Canadian  pacer,  at  the  rate  of 
a  mile  in  two  minutes  and  a  half,  on  the  icy  plains  of  Lake  Erie,  and 
as  we  held  the  reins,  have  thought  we  could  not  enjoy  a  more  exquisite  - 
pleasure.  That  experience,  however,  was  ours  long  before  we  had 
ever  seen  a  genuine  salmon;  we  are  somewhat  wiser  now,  for  we  have 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  41 

acquired  the  art  of  driving  through  the  pure  white  foam  even  a  superb 
salmon,  and  that,  too,  with  only  a  silken  line  some  hundred  yards  in 
length. 

One  of  the  most  fruitful  salmon  regions  for  the  angler  to  visit  lies 
on  the  north  shore  of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  between  the  Saguenay 
and  the  North-west  river  in  Labrador.  A  few  years  ago,  however, 
there  was  good  fishing  to  be  had  in  Mai  Bay  River,  above  the  Saguenay, 
and  also  in  the  Jacques  Cartier,  above  Quebec,  but  good  sport  is 
seldom  found  in  either  of  those  streams  at  the  present  time.  But  the 
principal  tributaries  of  the  Saguenay  itself  (particularly  the  River  St. 
Margaret),  afford  the  rarest  of  sport,  even  now.  The  streams  of  this 
coast  are  rather  small,  but  very  numerous,  and  without  a  single  excep 
tion,  we  believe,  are  rapid,  cold,  and  clear.  They  abound  in  waterfalls, 
and  though  exceedingly  wild,  are  usually  quite  convenient  to  angle 
in,  for  the  reason  that  the  spring  freshets  are  apt  to  leave  a  gravelly 
margin  on  either  side.  The  conveniences  for  getting  to  this  out-of-the- 
way  region  are  somewhat  rude,  but  quite  comfortable  and  very  ro 
mantic.  The  angler  has  to  go  in  a  Quebec  fishing  smack,  or  if  he  is 
in  the  habit  of  trusting  to  fortune  when  he  gets  into  a  scrape,  he  can 
always  obtain  a  passage  down  the  St.  Lawrence  in  a  brig  or  ship,  which 
will  land  him  at  any  stated  point.  If  he  goes  in  a  smack,  he  can 
always  make  use  of  her  tiny  cabin  for  his  temporary  home;  but  if  he 
takes  a  ship,  after  she  has  spread  her  sails  for  Europe,  he  will  have  to 
depend  upon  the  hospitality  of  the  Esquimaux  Indians.  At  the 
mouths  of  a  few  of  the  streams  alluded  to,  he  may  chance  to  find  the 
newly-built  cabin  of  a  lumberman,  who  will  treat  him  with  marked 
politeness ;  but  he  must  not  lay  the  "  flattering  unction  "  to  his  soul 
that  he  will  receive  any  civilities  from  the  agents  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company  whom  he  may  happen  to  meet  in  that  northern  wilderness. 

A  large  proportion  of  these  streams  run  through  an  unknown  mount 
ain  land,  and  are  yet  nameless;  so  that  we  cannot  designate  the  pre 
cise  localities  where  we  have  been  particularly  successful;  and  we 
might  add  that  the  few  which  have  been  named  by  the  Jesuit  Mis 
sionaries  can  never  be  remembered  without  a  feeling  of  disgust.  Not 
to  attempt  a  pun,  it  can  safely  be  remarked  that  those  names  are  de 
cidedly  Icasily ;  for  they  celebrate  such  creatures  as  the  hog,  the  sheep, 

4* 


42  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

and  the  cow.  The  salmon  taken  on  this  coast  vary  from  ten  to  forty 
pounds,  though  the  average  weight  is  perhaps  fifteen  pounds.  They 
constitute  an  important  article  of  commerce,  and  it  is  sometimes  the 
case  that  a  single  fisherman  will  secure  at  least  four  hundred  at  one 
tide,  in  a  single  net.  The  cities  of  Montreal  and  Quebec  are  supplied 
with  fresh  salmon  from  this  portion  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  the  entire 
valley  of  that  river,  as  well  as  portions  of  the  Union,  are  supplied  with 
smoked  salmon  from  the  same  region.  The  rivers  on  the  southern  coast 
of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  are  generally  well  supplied  with  salmon,  but 
those  streams  are  few  and  far  between,  and  difficult  of  access.  But  a  visit 
to  any  portion  of  this  great  northern  valley,  during  the  pleasant  summer 
time,  is  attended  with  many  interesting  circumstances.  Generally 
speaking,  the  scenery  is  mountainous,  and  though  the  people  are  not 
very  numerous,  they  are  somewhat  unique  in  their  manners  and  cus 
toms,  and  always  take  pleasure  in  lavishing  their  attentions  upon  the 
stranger.  The  weeks  that  we  spent  voyaging  upon  the  St.  Lawrence 
we  always  remember  with  unalloyed  pleasure ;  and  if  we  thought  that 
fortune  would  never  again  permit  us  to  revisit  those  delightful  scenes, 
we  should  indeed  be  quite  unhappy. 

The  most  agreeable  of  our  pilgrimages  were  performed  in  a  small 
sail-boat,  commanded  by  an  experienced  and  very  intelligent  pilot  of 
Tadousac,  named  Ovington,  and  our  companions  were  Charles  Pent- 
land,  Esq.,  of  Launcc  au  Leau  on  the  Saguenay,  and  George  Price,  Jr., 
Esq.,  of  Quebec.  We  had  everything  we  wanted  in  the  way  of  "crea 
ture  comforts ;"  and  we  went  everywhere,  saw  everybody,  caught  lots 
of  salmon,  killed  an  occasional  seal,  and  tried  to  harpoon  an  occasional 
white  porpoise;  now  enjoying  a  glorious  sunset,  and  then  watching 
the  stars  and  the  strange  aurora,  as  we  lay  becalmed  at  midnight  far 
out  upon  the  deep ;  at  one  time  gazing  with  wonder  upon  a  terrible 
storm,  and  then  again  happy,  fearless,  and  free,  dashing  over  the  bil 
lows  before  a  stiff  gale. 

Some  of  the  peculiar  charms  of  fly-fishing  in  this  region  are  owing 
to  the  fact  that  you  are  not  always  sure  of  the  genus  of  your  fish  even 
after  you  have  hooked  him,  for  it  may  be  a  forty  or  a  twenty  pound 
salmon,  and  then  again  it  may  be  a  salmon-trout  or  a  four  pound  spe 
cimen  of  the  common  trout.  The  consequence  is,  that  the  expecta- 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  43 

tions  of  the  angler  are  always  particularly  excited.  Another  pleasure 
which  might  be  mentioned  is  derived  from  the  queer  antics  and  laughable 
yells  of  the  Indians,  who  are  always  hanging  about  your  skirts  for  the 
express  purpose  of  making  themselves  merry  over  any  mishap  which 
may  befall  you.  The  only  drawback  which  we  have  found  in  fishing 
in  these  waters  is  caused  by  the  immense  number  of  musquitoes  and 
sand-flies.  Every  new  guest  is  received  by  them  with  particular  and 
constant  attention  :  their  only  desire,  by  night  or  day,  seems  to  be  to 
gorge  themselves  to  death  with  the  life-blood  of  those  who  "happen 
among  them."  It  actually  makes  our  blood  run  cold  to  think  of  the 
misery  we  endured  from  these  winged  tormentors. 

Even  with  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  before  our  mind,  we  are  dis 
posed  to  consider  the  Bay  of  Chaleur  the  most  interesting  salmon 
region  in  the  British  Possessions.  This  estuary  divides  Lower 
Canada  from  New  Brunswick,  and  as  the  streams  emptying  into  it  are 
numerous  and  always  clear,  they  are  resorted  to  by  the  salmon  in  great 
numbers.  The  scenery  of  the  bay  is  remarkably  beautiful :  the  north 
ern  shore,  being  rugged  and  mountainous,  presents  an  agreeable  contrast 
to  the  southern  shore,  which  is  an  extensive  lowland,  fertile,  and  some 
what  cultivated.  The  principal  inhabitants  of  this  region  are  Scotch 
farmers,  and  the  simplicity  of  their  lives  is  only  equaled  by  their 
hospitality;  and  upon  this  bay,  also,  reside  the  few  survivors  of  a  once 
powerful  aboriginal  nation,  the  Micmac  Indians.  But  of  all  the  rivers 
which  empty  into  the  Bay  of  Chaleur,  there  is  not  one  that  can  be 
compared  to  the  Restigouche,  which  is  its  principal  tributary.  It  is  a 
winding  stream,  unequal  in  width,  and  after  running  through  a  hilly 
country,  it  forces  its  way  through  a  superb  mountain  gorge,  and  then 
begins  to  expand  in  width  until  it  falls  into  its  parent  bay.  The  scene 
ry  is  beautiful  beyond  compare,  the  eye  being  occasionally  refreshed 
by  the  appearance  of  a  neat  farm,  or  a  little  Indian  hamlet.  The  river 
is  particularly  famous  for  its  salmon,  which  are  very  abundant  and  of 
a  good  size.  But  this  is  a  region  which  the  anglers  of  our  country  or. 
the  Provinces,  with  two  or  three  exceptions,  have  not  yet  taken  the 
trouble  to  visit,  and  many  of  the  resident  inhabitants  are  not  even 
aware  of  the  fact  that  the  salmon  may  be  taken  with  the  fly.  The 
regular  fishermen  catch  them  altogether  with  the  net,  and  the  Indians 


44  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

with  the  spear;  and  it  is  a  singular  fact  that  the  Indians  are  already 
complaining  of  the  whites  for  destroying  their  fisheries,  when  it  is 
known  that  a  single  individual  will  frequently  capture  in  a  single  day 
a  hundred  splendid  fellows,  and  that,  too,  with  a  spear  of  only  one 
tine.  It  is  reported  of  a  Scotch  clergyman  who  once  angled  in  "these 
parts,"  that  he  killed  three  hundred  salmon  in  one  season,  and  with  a 
single  rod  and  reel.  A  pilgrimage  to  the  Restigouche  would  afford 
the  salmon  fisher  sufficient  material  to  keep  his  thinkers  busy  for  at 
least  one  year.  The  angler  and  lover  of  scenery  who  could  spare  a 
couple  of  months,  would  find  it  a  glorious  trip  to  go  to  the  Bay  of  Cha- 
leur  in  a  vessel  around  Nova  Scotia,  returning  in  a  canoe  by  the  Res 
tigouche,  and  the  Spring  River,  which  empties  into  the  St.  John.  His 
most  tedious  portage  would  be  only  about  three  miles  long  (a  mere 
nothing  to  the  genuine  angler),  and  soon  after  touching  the  latter  river 
he  could  ship  himself  on  board  of  a  steamboat,  and  come  home  in  less 
than  a  week,  even  if  that  home  happened  to  be  west  of  the  Alleghany 
mountains. 

Of  all  the  large  rivers  of  New  Brunswick,  we  know  not  a  single  one 
which  will  not  afford  the  fly  fisherman  an  abundance  of  sport.  Fore 
most  among  our  favorites,  we  would  mention  the  St.  John,  with  the 
numerous  beautiful  tributaries  which  come  into  it  below  the  Great 
Falls,  not  forgetting  the  magnificent  pool  below  those  falls,  nor  Salmon 
River  and  the  Aroostook.  The  scenery  of  this  valley  is  charming 
beyond  compare,  but  the  man  who  would  spend  a  summer  therein 
must  have  a  remarkably  long  purse,  for  the  half-civilized  Indians,  and 
the  less  than  half-civilized  white  people,  of  the  region,  have  a  particu 
lar  passion  for  imposing  upon  travelers  and  charging  them  the  most 
exorbitant  prices  for  the  simple  necessaries  they  may  need.  The  sal 
mon  of  the  St.  John  are  numerous,  but  rather  small,  seldom  weighing 
more  than  fifteen  pounds.  The  fisheries  of  the  bay  of  Fundy,  near  the 
mouth  of  the  St.  John,  constitute  an  important  interest,  in  a  commer 
cial  point  of  view.  The  fishermen  here  take  the  salmon  with  drag-nets, 
just  before  high  water :  the  nets  are  about  sixty  fathoms  long,  and  re 
quire  three  or  four  boats  to  manage  them.  The  fish  are  all  purchased, 
at  this  particular  point,  by  one  man,  at  the  rate  of  eighty  cents  a-piece, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  45 

large  and  small,  during  the  entire  season.  The  other  New  Brunswick 
rivers  to  which  we  have  alluded  are  the  Mirimichi  and  the  St.  Croix; 
but  as  we  have  never  angled  in  either,  we  will  leave  them  to  their 
several  reputations. 

"We  now  come  to  say  a  few  words  of  Nova  Scotia,  which  is  not  only 
famous  for  its  salmon,  but  also  for  its  scientific  anglers.  In  this  pro 
vince  the  old  English  feeling  for  the  "  gentle  art"  is  kept  up,  and  we 
know  of  fly  fisherman  there,  a  record  of  whose  piscatorial  exploits 
would  have  overwhelmed  even  the  renowned  Walton  and  Davy  with 
astonishment.  The  rivers  of  Nova  Scotia  are  quite  numerous,  and 
usually  well  supplied  with  salmon.  The  great  favorite  among  the 
Halifax  anglers  is  Gold  River,  a  cold  and  beautiful  stream,  which  is 
about  sixty  miles  distant  from  that  city,  in  a  westerly  direction.  The 
valley  of  the  stream  is  somewhat  settled,  and  by  a  frugal  and  hard 
working  Swiss  and  German  population,  who  pitched  their  tents  there 
in  1760.  It  is  fifteen  years  since  it  was  discovered  by  a  strolling  an 
gler,  and  at  the  present  time  there  is  hardly  a  man  residing  on  its 
banks  who  does  not  consider  himself  a  faithful  disciple  of  Walton. 
Even  among  the  Micmac  Indians,  who  pay  the  river  an  annual  visit, 
may  be  occasionally  found  an  expert  fly  fisher.  But,  after  all,  Nova 
Scotia  is  not  exactly  the  province  to  which  a  Yankee  angler  would 
enjoy  a  visit,  for  cockney  fishermen  are  a  little  too  abundant,  and  the 
ways  of  the  people  in  some  ridiculous  particulars  smack  too  much  of 
the  mother  country. 

Having  finished  our  geographical  history  of  the  salmon  and  his 
American  haunts,  we  will  take  our  leave  of  him  by  simply  remarking 
(for  the  benefit  of  those  who  like  to  preserve  what  they  capture),  that 
there  are  three  modes  for  preserving  the  salmon : — first,  by  putting 
them  in  salt  for  three  days,  and  then  smoking,  which  takes  about 
twelve  days ;  secondly,  by  regularly  salting  them  down,  as  you  would 
mackerel ;  and  thirdly,  by  boiling  and  then  pickling  them  in  vinegar. 
The  latter  method  is  unquestionably  the  most  troublesome,  but  at  the 
same  time  the  most  expeditious ;  and  what  can  tickle  the  palate  more 
exquisitely  than  a  choice  bit  of  pickled  salmon,  with  a  bottle  of  Bur 
gundy  to  float  it  to  its  legitimate  home  ? 


4G  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE   FUR   TRAPPERS. 

THE  unique  brotherhood  of  men  to  whom  we  now  direct  the  atten 
tion  of  our  readers  have  always  depended  upon  the  fur  trade  alone  for 
their  support,  and  as  the  various  fur  companies  of  North  America  have 
flourished  and  declined,  so  have  the  trappers  multiplied  or  decreased 
in  numbers.  The  French,  who  were  the  founders  of  the  fur  trade  on 
this  continent,  established  themselves  here  in  1606,  and  the  trapping 
fraternity  may  therefore  claim  the  honor  of  having  existed  nearly  two 
centuries  and  a  half.  To  estimate  the  precise  number  of  individuals 
composing  this  class  at  the  present  time  would  be  an  impossibility, 
occupying  as  they  do  a  section  of  country  extending  from  the  Pacific 
Ocean  to  Hudson's  Bay. 

By  the  laws  of  our  country  they  have  ever  been  looked  upon  as 
aliens  from  the  commonwealth  of  civilization,  and  by  the  Indian  tribes 
as  trespassers  upon  their  natural  and  inherited  privileges.  The  blood 
of  the  white  man,  though  frequently  considerably  adulterated,  invari 
ably  runs  through  their  veins,  and  the  great  majority  trace  their  origin 
to  a  French,  Scottish,  or  Irish  ancestry,  it  being  an  established  and 
singular  fact  that  trappers  of  pure  American  blood  are  exceedingly 
rare.  Those  of  the  far  north  commonly  have  the  dark  eyes  and  hair 
of  the  Canadian  Frenchman,  and  those  of  the  south-west  the  flaxen  hair 
and  broad  brogue  of  the  Scotchman  or  Irishman.  The  motives  gene 
rally  found  to  have  influenced  them  in  entering  upon  their  peculiar 
life  are  of  course  exceedingly  various,  but  among  the  more  common 
ones  may  be  mentioned  a  deeply-rooted  love  for  the  works  of  Nature 
in  their  primeval  luxuriance,  want  of  sufficient  intelligence  to  prosecute 
a  more  respectable  business,  and  a  desire  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  cer 
tain  laws  which  they  may  have  transgressed  in  their  earlier  days. 
They  are  usually  men  with  families,  their  wives  being  pure  Indian, 
and  their  children,  as.  a  matter  of  course,  half  breeds.  They  have  what 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  47 

may  be  termed  fixed  habitations,  but  they  are  rude  log  cabins,  located 
on  the  extreme  frontiers  of  the  civilized  world.  In  religion,  as  a  class, 
they  are  behind  their  red  brethren  of  the  wilderness,  and  their  know 
ledge  of  books  is  quite  as  limited.  Generally  speaking,  they  spend 
about  nine  months  roaming  alone  through  the  solitude  of  the  forests 
and  prairies,  and  the  remaining  three  months  of  the  year  with  their 
families  or  at  the  trading  posts  of  the  fur  companies.  As  their  harvest 
time  is  the  winter,  they  are  necessarily  men  of  iron  constitutions,  and 
frequently  endure  the  severest  hardships  and  privations.  Understand 
ing  as  they  do  the  science  of  trapping  and  the  use  of  the  gun  more 
thoroughly  than  the  Indian,  they  eclipse  him  in  the  business  of  acquir 
ing  furs,  and  from  their  superior  knowledge  of  the  civilized  world, 
limited  though  it  be,  they  realize  much  greater  profits,  and  hence  it  is 
that  they  are  not  only  hated  by  the  Indian  but  also  by  the  traders. 
Their  manner  of  dressing  is  ordinarily  about  half  civilized,  their  buck 
skin  hunting  shirts  and  far  caps,  of  their  own  manufacture,  appearing 
almost  as  picturesque  as  the  blankets  and  plumes  of  the  Indian  him 
self.  Like  the  Indians,  too,  they  prefer  richly-fringed  leggins  to  pan 
taloons,  and  embroidered  moccasins  to  shoes.  To  be  perfectly  free  from 
every  restraint  both  of  body  and  mind,  is  their  chief  ambition,  and  to 
enjoy  the  freedom  of  the  wilderness  is  their  utmost  happiness.  Those 
who  follow  their  trade  among  the  mountains  are  commonly  banded  to 
gether  in  parties  of  half  a  dozen.  They  perform  their  long  journey 
altogether  upon  horseback,  and  when  among  the  mountains  are  as  ex 
pert  in  scaling  precipices,  surmounting  waterfalls,  and  buffeting  snow 
storms  as  the  more  hardy  of  the  Indian  tribes.  They  are  expert  horse 
men,  ride  the  best  of  animals,  and  take  great  pleasure  not  only  in  deck 
ing  themselves  with  ornaments,  but  also  in  caparisoning  their  horses 
in  the  most  grotesque  yet  picturesque  manner.  As  to  the  animals 
which  all  of  them  make  it  their  business  to  capture,  it  may  be  men 
tioned  that  chiefest  among  them  all  is  the  beaver ;  but  a  goodly  portion  of 
their  income  is  derived  from  the  furs  and  peltries  of  the  martin,  otter, 
muskrat,  bear,  fox,  mink,  lynx,  wolverine,  raccoon,  wolf,  elk,  and  deer, 
and  the  robes  of  the  huge  buffalo. 

But  let  us  describe  the  life  of  the  trapping  fraternity  somewhat  more 
minutely,  in  doing  which  we  shall  give  an  illustrative  sketch  of  the 


48  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

career  of  a  single  individual,  describing  his  departure  from  home,  his 
sojourn  in  the  wilderness,  his  return  home,  and  his  manner  of  spend 
ing  his  brief  summer  furlough. 

It  is  a  bright  October  morning,  and  about  the  threshold  of  the  trap 
per's  cabin  there  is  an  unusual  stir.  While  the  trapper  himself 
is  busily  engaged  in  examining  and  putting  in  order  his  traps,  packing 
away  his  powder  and  lead,  with  a  number  of  good  flints,  giving  the 
lock  of  his  old  rifle  a  thorough  oiling,  and  sharpening  his  knives,  his 
wife  is  stowing  away  in  his  knapsack  a  few  simple  cooking  utensils,  a 
small  bag  of  tea  and  a  little  sugar,  several  pairs  of  moccasins  and  coarse 
woolen  socks,  and  a  goodly  quantity  of  the  sinewy  material  used  in 
making  snow-shoes.  The  fact  that  our  friend  is  about  to  separate  from 
his  family  for  the  most  part  of  a  year,  makes  him  particularly  kind  to 
those  about  him ;  and,  by  way  of  manifesting  his  feelings,  he  gives 
into  his  wife's  possession  what  little  spare  money  he  may  have  left  in 
his  pocket  out  of  his  earnings  of  the  previous  year,  and  allows  his 
children  to  make  as  much  noise  as  they  please,  even  refraining  from 
scolding  them  when  they  kick  and  abuse  his  favorite  hunting  dogs. 
All  things  being  ready,  night  comes,  and  the  trapper  permits  himself 
to  enjoy  another  sleep  in  the  midst  of  his  household,  but  long  before 
the  break  of  day  he  has  whistled  to  his  dogs,  and,  with  his  knapsack 
on  his  back,  has  taken  his  departure  for  a  stream  that  rises  among  the 
Ilocky  Mountains.  If  his  course  lies  through  a  forest  land  he  con 
tinues  to  travel  on  foot,  taking  his  own  leisure,  killing  a  sufficient 
quantity  of  game  to  satisfy  his  wants,  and  sleeping  at  night  upon  his 
skins,  under  a  canopy  of  leaves.  If  extensive  water  courses  lie  within 
his  range,  he  purchases  a  canoe  of  some  wandering  Indians  and  plays 
the  part  of  a  navigator;  and  if  he  finds  it  necessary  to  cross  extensive 
prairies,  he  obtains  a  pony,  and,  packing  himself  and  plunder  upon 
the  animal,  plays  the  part  of  an  equestrian.  When  the  first  blast  of 
December,  accompanied  by  a  shower  of  snow,  sweeps  over  the  land,  it 
finds  our  trapper  friend  snugly  domiciled  in  a  log  shanty  at  the  mouth 
of  the  river  where  he  purposes  to  spend  the  winter  trapping  for  beaver. 

And  now  all  things  are  ready,  and  the  trapper  has  actually  entered 
upon  his  winter  avocation.  He  has  reconnoitered  the  valley  in  which 
he  finds  himself,  and  having  ascertained  the  localities  of  the  beaver, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  49 

with  their  houses  and  dams,  he  forthwith  manages  to  shoot  a  single 
male  beaver,  and  having  obtained  from  his  glandulous  pouch  a  sub 
stance  called  castor  cum,  he  mixes  it  with  a  number  of  aromatics,  and 
in  three  or  four  days  he  is  supplied  with  a  suitable  bait  and  proceeds 
to  set  his  traps.  As  the  senses  of  the  beaver  are  exceedingly  keen, 
the  business  of  the  trapper  requires  experience  and  great  caution,  and 
he  glides  through  the  forests  almost  with  the  silence  of  a  ghost;  but, 
when  a  master  of  his  calling,  he  seldom  leaves  a  beaver  village  until, 
by  his  cunning  arts,  it  has  become  depopulated.  The  war  of  extermi 
nation,  as  already  intimated,  begins  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and  with 
our  friend  will  only  cease  when  he  has  reached  the  fountain-head,  or  the 
season  for  trapping  comes  to  an  end.  The  coldest  of  winds  may  blow  and 
the  woods  may  be  completely  blocked  with  snow,  but  the  trapper  has 
mounted  his  snow-shoes,  and  day  after  day  does  he  revisit  and  re-arrange 
his  traps.  If  night  overtake  him  when  far  removed  from  his  shanty 
(which  may  be  the  case  more  than  half  the  time),  he  digs  himself  a  hole 
in  some  sheltered  snow  bank,  and,  wrapped  up  in  his  blanket  by  the 
side  of  his  solitary  fire,  spends  a  strangely  comfortable  night.  When 
not  engaged  with  his  traps,  he  employs  his  time  in  drying  and  dressing 
his  furs ;  or,  as  fancy  may  dictate,  he  shoulders  his  gun  and  starts  out 
for  the  purpose  of  capturing  a  deer,  a  bear,  or  some  of  the  beasts  which 
are  wont  to  howl  him  to  sleep  at  the  midnight  hour.  Venison  and 
bear  meat  constitute  his  principal  food,  but  he  is  particularly  partial 
to  the  tail  of  his  favorite  beaver.  The  only  human  beings  with  which 
he  has  any  social  intercourse  during  the  long  winter  are  the  poor  wan 
dering  Indians  who  chance  to  visit  him  in  his  cabin ;  and  at  such  times 
many  are  the  wild  adventures  and  strange  legends  which  they  relate 
to  each  other  around  the  huge  fire  of  the  trapper.  And  he  now  enjoys 
to  perfection  the  companionship  of  his  dogs.  Companions,  it  is  true, 
of  another  sort  sometimes  gather  around  his  lonely  habitation  to  relieve 
his  solitude,  for  the  snowy  owl  hoots  and  screams  at  night  from  the 
huge  pine  branch  that  reaches  over  his  cabin,  or  perhaps  an  unmolested 
deer  manifests  its  love  of  companionship  by  browsing  the  twigs  in 
broad  daylight  almost  at  his  very  threshold.  But  now  fair  weather 
cometh  out  of  the  north,  and  the  trapper  begins  to  think  that  he  has 
secured  such  a  supply  of  furs  as  will  guaranty  him  a  comfortable  sup- 
5 


50  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

port  during  the  coming  summer,  and  one  by  one  he  gathers  in  his 
traps.  The  crack  of  his  rifle  is  now  heard  more  frequently  echoing 
through  the  woods,  for  he  cares  not  to  obtain  more  beaver  skins  even 
if  he  could,  and  he  would  obtain  a  sufficient  number  of  miscellaneous 
furs  to  render  his  assortment  complete.  Heavy  spring  rains  have  set 
in,  the  water  courses  are  nearly  released  from  their  icy  fetters,  and  on 
issuing  from  his  cabin,  after  a  night  of  conflicting  dreams,  he  finds 
that  the  neighboring  stream  has  become  unusually  full.  A  single 
glance  at  its  turbid  waters  is  enough.  He  cuts  down  a  suitable  tree 
and  builds  him  a  canoe,  and  in  this  does  he  stow  away  his  furs  and  all 
his  other  plunder;  and,  seizing  his  paddle,  he  jumps  into  his  seat, 
and  with  a  light  heart  starts  for  his  distant  home. 

The  rains  are  over  and  gone,  and  although  our  voyager  has  already 
been  ten  days  upon  the  waters,  he  has  yet  at  least  a  thousand  addi 
tional  miles  to  travel.  Rapids  without  number  are  to  be  passed, 
many  a  laborious  portage  must  be  made  around  huge  waterfalls,  and 
at  least  two  months  must  elapse  before  he  can  moor  his  little  barge  in 
the  haven  where  he  would  be.  Day  follows  day,  and  his  course  is  on 
ward.  All  along  his  route  the  forest  trees  are  bursting  their  buds  and 
decking  themselves  with  the  livery  of  the  vernal  season,  while  the 
grasses  and  flowers  of  the  prairies  are  striving  to  overreach  each  other 
as  they  loom  into  the  pleasant  sunshine.  And  then,  too,  the  heart  of 
our  voyager  is  cheered  by  the  singing  of  birds.  When  night  comes, 
and  he  has  lain  himself  down  by  his  watchfire  on  the  shore,  in  some 
little  cove,  he  is  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  murmuring  music  of  the  stream. 
If,  on  a  pleasant  day  when  he  is  fatigued,  he  happen  upon  an  Indian 
encampment  and  finds  that  an  extensive  ball-play  or  an  Indian  horse 
race,  or  any  important  medicine  ceremony  is  about  to  occur,  he  tarries 
there  for  a  few  hours,  and  then,  as  his  mind  dwells  upon  the  grotesque 
and  laughable  scenes  he  has  witnessed,  resumes  his  voyage  in  a  more 
cheerful  mood.  Day  follows  day,  and  the  stream  upon  which  he  is 
now  floating  is  broad  and  deep,  and  sweeps  onward  as  if  rejoicing  with 
pride  for  having  triumphed  over  the  obstacles  of  the  wilderness,  and 
is  rapidly  approaching  the  fields  and  the  abodes  of  civilization.  It  is 
now  the  close  of  a  day  in  the  leafy  month  of  June,  and  our  voyager  is 
gliding  noiselessly  into  the  quiet  cove  beside  his  cabin,  and,  uttering 


RECORDS  OP  A  TOURIST.  51 

a  loud  whistle  or  whoop  and  firing  his  gun,  his  wife  and  children 
hasten  to  the  shore,  and — the  trapper  is  at  home ! 

The  summer  time,  in  the  opinion  of  our  trapper  friend,  is  the  season 
of  unalloyed  enjoyment,  for  it  is  then  that  he  gives  himself  up  to  the 
gratification  of  all  his  desires.  Having  disposed  of  his  furs  and  pel 
tries  at  the  nearest  trading  post  for  a  few  hundred  dollars  in  cash,  or 
its  equivalent  in  merchandise,  he  deems  himself  independently  rich, 
and  conducts  himself  accordingly.  In  a  fit  of  liberality,  he  orders  his 
wife  and  children  into  his  canoe  and  takes  them  upon  a  visit  to  the  near 
est  frontier  village  or  city,  where  he  loads  them  with  gewgaws,  and  the 
family  spend  a  few  days.  The  novelty  of  this  visit  soon  passes  away, 
and  our  trapper  with  his  family  are  once  more  domiciled  in  their  cabin. 
A  week  of  inactivity  then  follows,  and  the  trapper  becomes  as  restless 
as  a  fish  out  of  water.  He  is  troubled  with  a  kind  of  itching  palm, 
and  away  he  goes  upon  a  vagabondizing  tour  among  the  hangers-on 
about  the  trading  establishments,  recounting  to  all  who  will  listen  to 
him  his  adventures  in  the  wilderness,  and  spending  the  remainder  of 
the  summer  after  the  manner  of  the  idle  and  the  dissipated.  But  the 
first  frost  brings  him  to  his  senses,  and  the  trapper  is  himself  again— 
for  he  is  thinking  of  the  wilderness, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    CANADIAN    RECLUSE. 

Or  the  many  singular  characters  which  we  have  met  with  in  our 
various  travels,  we  remember  none  with  more  pleasure,  and  even 
wonder,  than  the  hero  of  this  chapter.  In  company  with  three  friends, 
we  were  upon  a  fishing  cruise  along  the  northern  shore  of  the  river  St. 
Lawrence,  above  the  Saguenay,  and  having  on  a  certain  afternoon 
steered  our  little  craft  into  a  cove  at  the  mouth  of  a  brook,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  obtaining  fresh  water,  we  were  surprised  to  find  ourselves  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  of  a  rude  but  comfortable  log  cabin. 
Curiosity,  as  a  matter  of  course,  led  us  to  visit  the  cabin,  and  introduce 
ourselves  to  the  proprietor.  We  did  so,  and  were  not  only  warmly 
welcomed,  but  were  invited  to  tarry  with  our  new  acquaintance  until 
the  next  day,  and  had  we  not  accepted  the  invitation,  the  following 
particulars  would  not  now  be  made  known  to  the  public. 

The  individual  under  consideration  was  a  Frenchman,  and  a  native 
of  Quebec.  He  was  above  the  medium  height,  about  forty  years  of 
age,  graceful  in  his  manners,  active  in  mind  and  body,  and  altogether 
just  the  character  to  rivet  the  attention  of  the  most  casual  observer. 
He  was  wholly  ignorant  of  the  world,  having  never  been  out  of  his 
native  city,  excepting  when  he  took  up  his  abode  in  this  out-of-the- 
way  corner  of  the  country,  where,  at  the  time  we  met  with  him,  he 
had  been  secluded  for  nearly  twenty  years.  He  had  a  wife  (but  no 
children)  who  was  as  much  like  himself  in  appearance  and  character  as 
nature  could  well  allow  her  to  be.  He  was  totally  illiterate,  and  yet 
possessed  an  attachment  to  the  unwritten  science  of  botany  which  was 
truly  remarkable.  His  cabin  had  only  two  lower  rooms  and  one  garret, 
and  yet  the  best  of  the  three  was  exclusively  appropriated  to  a  collec 
tion  of  plants,  gathered  from  the  neighboring  hills  and  mountains, 
and  numbering  several  hundred  varieties,  together  with  large  moose 
horns,  furs,  and  other  forest  curiosities.  He  knew  not  the  generic 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  53 

name  of  a  single  specimen,  and  yet  he  would  expatiate  upon  their  beauty 
in  the  most  interesting  manner,  showing  that  he  loved  them  with  in 
tense  affection.  To  the  hunting  and  cultivation  of  plants  he  told  us 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  devoting  more  than  half  of  his  time,  where 
upon  we  asked  him  from  what  source  he  obtained  his  living.  He  in 
formed  us  that  having  inherited  the  large  tract  of  land  upon  which  he 
resided,  he  had  come  here  for  the  purpose  of  getting  a  living  out  of 
that.  On  casting  our  eyes  about,  and  finding  nothing  for  them  to  rest 
upon  but  mountains  of  solid  rock,  where  even  pine  trees  hardly  had  the 
courage  to  grow,  we  thought  his  reply  somewhat  mysterious.  He 
smiled  at  our  perplexity,  and  then  told  us  that  he  had  two  or  three 
profitable  salmon  fishing  grounds  within  a  mile  of  his  house,  which 
were  rented  out  to  Quebec  fishermen,  and  yielded  him  all  the  necessaries 
of  life,  and  that  he  obtained  his  fresh  meats  with  his  own  hands  from, 
the  forest. 

Had  we  been  inclined  to  doubt  any  of  the  assertions  of  our  friend 
in  regard  to  his  good  living,  all  such  doubts  would  have  been  most  as 
suredly  dispelled  by  what  we  witnessed  and  enjoyed  before  closing  our 
eyes  on  the  night  in  question.  Having  taken  us  to  the  fishing  ground 
lying  nearest  to  his  cabin,  for  the  purpose  of  letting  us  see  how  the 
salmon  were  taken  in  the  circular  set  nets  (into  which  they  swam  on 
their  way  up  stream  when  the  tide  was  high,  and  from  which  they 
were  taken  by  the  hundred  when  the  tide  was  low),  he  picked  out  a 
splendid  twenty  pound  fish,  and  piloted  us  back  again  to  his  dwelling. 
He  then  excused  himself  from  further  waiting  upon  us,  and,  begging 
us  to  amuse  ourselves  by  examining  his  plants,  or  doing  anything  else 
we  pleased,  he  informed  us  that  he  must  assist  his  wife  in  preparing 
our  supper.  We  bowed  our  most  willing  assent,  and  as  the  sun  was 
near  his  setting,  we  ascended  a  neighboring  knoll  for  the  purpose  of 
enjoying  the  extensive  prospect  which  presented  itself  to  view. 

We  were  looking  towards  the  south,  and  across  that  portion  of  the 
noble  St.  Lawrence  where  it  is  without  an  island,  and  its  shores  are 
twenty-five  miles  apart.  The  retinue  of  clouds  around  the  setting  sun 
were  brilliant  to  a  marvelous  degree,  and  were  distinctly  mirrored  on 
the  tranquil  bosom  of  the  superb  river.  In  the  distance  we  could 
barely  discover  the  southern  shore,  forming  a  long  narrow  line  of  pur- 

5* 


54  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

pie;  about  a  dozen  miles  to  the  eastward  one  solitary  ship  lay  floating 
at  the  mercy  of  the  tide,  and  in  the  foreground  was  the  cabin  of  our 
entertainer,  partly  hidden  from  our  view  by  a  few  stunted  trees,  and 
apparently  hemmed  in  by  inaccessible  mountains,  while  before  the 
cabin  lay  extended  some  half  dozen  immense  mongrel  dogs,  which 
were  the  only  living  creatures,  besides  ourselves,  tending  to  animate 
the  lonely  scene.  Silently  communing  with  our  own  hearts,  we  watched 
with  peculiar  interest  the  coming  forth,  one  after  another,  of  the  beau 
tiful  stars,  and  we  could  not  but  think  of  our  distant  homes,  and  of 
the  ties  which  bound  us  to  the  absent  and  loved.  One  moment  more, 
and  we  heard  a  loud  hallo,  which  came  from  the  lungs  of  our  Canadian 
friend,  who  informed  us  that  supper  was  ready,  whereupon  we  descended 
to  the  cabin  at  a  pace  bordering  upon  a  run. 

And  such  a  supper !  Our  host  presided,  and  while  two  of  his  guests 
were  seated  on  either  side,  the  hostess  occupied  the  opposite  end  of  the 
table  from  her  husband.  She  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English,  and 
of  course  uttered  all  her  apologies  in  French;  and  though  the  husband 
pretended  to  talk  English,  we  begged  him  to  remember  that  his  guests 
all  understood  French,  and  that  he  had  better  converse  as  nature  dic 
tated.  No  objections  were  made,  and  we  proceeded  to  business.  The 
table  was  literally  loaded;  and,  whilst  the  matron  poured  out  a  capital 
cup  of  coffee,  the  host  overwhelmed  the  plates  of  his  guests  with  various 
kinds  of  meat,  most  of  which  were  fried  or  broiled  almost  to  a  crisp. 
"We  gave  vent  to  our  curiosity  by  inquiring  the  names  of  "the  dishes 
we  were  eating.  From  this  moment,  until  the  truly  delicious  feast 
was  ended,  the  talking  was  all  performed  by  the  Canadian  botanist,  and 
the  substance  of  his  remarks  may  be  stated  as  follows : 

"  That  meat  in  the  blue  platter,  gentlemen,  was  cut  from  the  hind 
quarters  of  the  biggest  black  Lear  ever  seen  among  the  mountains. 
He  weighed  over  four  hundred  pounds,  and  was  as  savage  as  he  was 
fat  and  big.  I  was  climbing  along  the  edge  of  a  hill,  about  a  week 
ago,  for  the  purpose  of  securing  a  small  yellow  flower  that  I  had  dis 
covered  hanging  from  a  rock,  when  the  bear  in  question  came  running 
out  of  the  mouth  of  his  den,  and  saluting  me  with  a  long  scratch  on 
the  back,  I  gave  him  a  stab  in  the  belly,  and  tumbled  myself  down 
the  offset  in  the  most  hasty  manner  imaginable.  I  always  take  my 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  55 

/ 

gun  with  me  when  I  go  into  the  woods,  and  when  I  reached  the  bot 
tom  of  the  Jiill  I  looked  out  for  the  bear;  and,  discovering  him  on  a 
stump  some  twenty  yards  off;  I  gave  him  a  shot,  and  he  made  at  me  with 
the  fires  of  revenge  and  rage  in  his  eye.  I  climbed  up  a  small  tree, 
and  while  the  rascal  made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  follow  me,  I  re 
loaded  my  gun  and  sent  another  charge  directly  into  his  mouth,  which 
gave  him  a  bad  cough,  and  in  a  short  time  he  staggered  a  few  paces 
from  the  tree  and  fell  to  the  ground  quite  dead.  /  then  went  bade  to 
the  cliff  to  secure  my  yellow  flower,  and  during  that  afternoon,  by  the 
aid  of  my  pony,  dragged  the  bear  to  my  cabin. 

"  In  that  dish,  with  a  piece  broken  from  the  edge,  gentlemen,  you 
have  a  mixture  of  moose  tongue,  moose  lip,  and  moose  brains.  I  spent 
nearly  a  month  moose-hunting,  last  winter,  in  company  with  a  couple 
of  Indians,  and  though  the  snow  was  deep,  the  crust  hard,  our  snow- 
shoes  in  good  order,  our  dogs  brave  and  strong,  and  moose  were  nu 
merous,  we  only  killed  about  sixteen.  I  only  brought  home  the  heads 
(while  the  Indians  were  satisfied  with  the  skins  and  haunches),  but  I 
was  more  than  paid  for  all  my  trouble,  in  the  way  of  hard  traveling 
and  cold  sleeping,  for  in  one  of  the  moose-yards  that  we  visited  I  found 
a  specimen  of  pine  which  I  had  never  seen  before.  It  was  very  soft 
and  beautiful,  and  I  think  the  book-men  of  England  would  give  a  good 
deal  of  money  if  they  could  have  it  in  their  great  gardens. 

"  As  to  that  meat  in  the  white  dish,  which  you  all  seem  to  eat  with 
such  a  relish,  I  think  you  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  it  is  nothing 
but  beaver's  tail.  To  my  taste  it  is  the  sweetest  meat  in  the  world, 
and  I  am  only  sorry  that  this  valuable  animal  is  becoming  so  very 
scarce  in  this  section  of  country.  My  present  stock  of  beaver's  tail 
came  from  the  shore  of  Hudson's  Bay,  and,  though  I  bought  it  of  an 
Indian,  I  had  to  pay  him  as  much  for  the  tails  as  the  fur  company  paid 
him  for  the  skins  of  his  animals.  I  never  trapped  for  beaver  myself, 
but  I  have  for  otter,  and  often  have  great  sport  in  killing  seals,  which 
are  very  abundant  in  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  afford  to  the  Indians  pretty 
good  food  during  the  hard  winters.  The  only  thing  that  I  have 
against  the  beaver  is,  that  he  has  a  fashion,  I  am  told,  of  cutting  down 
for  his  house  such  beautiful  trees  as  the  birch,  mulberry,  willow,  and 
poplar  before  they  are  half  grown. 


56  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

te  As  to  the  salmon  upon  which  you  have  been  feasting,  gentlemen, 
you  know  as  much  about  that  particular  individual  as  I  do,  since  you 
saw  him  while  yet  in  his  native  element.  The  men  who  hire  my  fish 
ing  grounds  pay  me  so  much  for  every  fish  they  take,  and  sell  them 
at  a  great  profit  in  Quebec  and  even  in  Montreal.  From  the  fisheries 
on  this  shore  are  the  people  of  Canada  exclusively  supplied  with  the 
salmon,  and  when  we  have  a  good  season  our  merchants  manage  to 
send  over  to  the  United  States,  in  a  smoked  condition,  a  good  many 
thousand.  As  to  taking  them  with  those  pretty  little  flies,  which  you, 
gentlemen,  always  carry  in  your  pocket-books,  I  never  could  understand 
how  you  manage  to  deceive  so  sensible  a  fish  as  the  salmon.  Of  one 
thing  I  am  certain :  if  you  expect  to  take  any  of  the  salmon  in  this 
region  with  those  little  lines  and  hooks,  you  will  be  much  mistaken. 
You  will  have  to  go  down  to  the  Saguenay,  where  I  am  told  the  fish  do 
not  know  any  better  than  to  be  deceived  by  your  cunning  arts.  But, 
if  I  was  ever  to  follow  fishing  as  you  do,  it  seems  to  me  that  instead 
of  red,  yellow,  and  blue  feathers,  I  should  cover  my  hooks  with  the 
bright  berries  and  buds  wliicli  you  may  find  upon  some  trees  even  during 
the  fishing  season." 

This  last  remark  of  our  host  convinced  us  that  he  was  indeed  pos 
sessed  with  a  ruling  passion,  and  we  of  course  gratified  ourselves  by 
humoring  him  to  the  length  of  our  patience.  He  not  only  monopolized 
the  conversation  during  supper,  but  he  did  most  of  the  talking  until 
bed-time.  We  spent  the  night  under  his  roof,,  sleeping  upon  bear 
skins,  spread  on  the  floor ;  and,  after  an  early  breakfast,  we  bade  him 
adieu,  and  pursued  our  course  down  the  St.  Lawrence. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  57 


TROUT    FISHING. 

It  carries  us  into  the  most  wild  and  beautiful  scenery  of  nature ;  amongst  the 
mountain  lakes  and  the  clear  and  lovely  streams  that  gush  from  the  higher 
ranges  of  elevated  hills,  or  make  their  way  through  the  cavities  of  calcareous 
rocks.  SIR  HUMPHREY  DAVY. 

WERE  it  not  for  the  salmon,  we  should  pronounce  the  trout  the 
most  superb  game-fish  in  the  world.  As  the  case  now  stands;  however, 
we  are  inclined  to  believe  that  he  has  delighted  a  greater  number  of 
anglers  than  any  other  inhabitant  of  the  "  liquid  plain."  The  cha 
racteristics  of  this  charming  fish  are  so  well  known  that  we  shall  not, 
on  this  occasion,  enter  upon  a  scientific  description,  either  of  his  per 
son  or  habits.  In  all  the  particulars  of  beauty,  of  color  and  form,  of 
grace,  of  activity,  of  intelligence  and  flavor,  as  before  intimated,  he 
has  but  one  rival.  He  always  glories  in  the  coldest  and  purest  of 
water,  and  the  regions  of  country  to  which  he  is  partial  are  commonly 
distinguished  for  the  wildness  of  their  scenery;  and  therefore  it  is  that 
to  the  lover  of  nature  this  imperial  fish  has  ever  been  exceedingly 
dear.  Their  period  of  spawning  is  in  the  autumn,  and  they  recover 
as  early  as  February,  thereby  remaining  in  season  a  part  of  the  winter, 
as  well  as  the  entire  spring  and  summer — though  the  trouting  months, 
par  excellence,  are  May  and  June. 

In  weight,  even  when  fully  grown,  the  different  varieties  of  trout 
run  from  four  ounces  to  sixty  pounds,  and  of  the  different  distinct 
species  found  in  the  United  States  and  Canada,  we  are  acquainted  only 
with  the  following : 

The  Common  or  Brook  and  River  Trout. — There  is  hardly  a  cold 
and  rocky  stream  in  any  of  the  New  England  or  Northern  States,  or 
among  the  mountains  of  the  Middle  and  Southern  States,  where  this 
species  is  not  found  in  abundance.  In  regard  to  weight,  they  ordina 
rily  vary  from  three  or  four  ounces  to  two  pounds;  and  in  color,  ac- 


58  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

cording  to  the  character  of  the  brook  or  river  which  they  inhabit.  So 
apparent  is  the  difference  of  color  in  this  family,  that,  in  the  several 
sections  of  the  country  where  they  are  found,  they  are  designated  by 
the  names  of  Silver  or  Fall  trout,  as  in  Lake  George ;  and  the  Black 
trout,  as  in  many  of  the  smaller  lakes  or  ponds  of  New  England. 
The  only  civilized  mode  employed  by  our  people  for  taking  them  is 
with  the  hook;  but,  while  the  scientific  angler  prefers  the  artificial  fly 
(with  an  appropriate  reel),  large  numbers  are  annually  destroyed  by 
the  farmers'  boys  with  the  common  hook  and  red  worm.  As  to  the 
heathenish  mode  of  netting  this  beautiful  fish,  we  can  only  say  that  it 
merits  the  most  earnest  condemnation  of  every  gentleman.  The  com 
mon  trout  is  proverbially  one  of  the  most  skittish  of  all  the  finny 
tribes;  but,  when  he  happens  to  be  a  little  hungry,  he  is  fearless  as 
the  hawk,  and  at  such  times  often  leaps  into  the  air  as  if  for  the  pur 
pose  of  defying  the  cunning  of  his  human  enemies.  According  to  our 
experience,  the  best  bait  for  early  spring  fishing  is  the  common  worm, 
but  for  June,  July,  and  August  we  prefer  the  fly.  Sometimes,  how 
ever,  a  minnow  is  preferable  to  either.  The  great  charm  of  fly-fishing 
for  trout  is  derived  from  the  fact  that  you  then  see  the  movement  of 
your  fish,  and  if  you  are  not  an  expert  hand,  the  chances  are  that  you 
will  capture  but  one  out  of  the  hundred  that  may  rise  to  your  hook. 
You  can  seldom  save  a  trout  unless  you  strike  the  very  instant  that  he 
leaps.  But,  even  after  this,  a  deal  of  care  is  required  to  land  him  in 
safety.  If  he  is  a  half-pounder,  you  may  pull  him  out  directly ;  but 
if  larger  than  that,  after  fairly  hooking  him,  you  should  play  him  with 
your  whole  line,  which,  when  well  done,  is  a  feat  full  of  poetry.  The 
swiftness  with  which  a  trout  can  dart  from  his  hiding-place  after  a  fly 
is  truly  astonishing ;  and  we  never  see  one  perform  this  operation 
without  feeling  an  indescribable  thrill  quivering  through  our  frame. 
The  fact  that  this  is  the  only  fish  in  the  world  which  nature  has  desig 
nated  by  a  row  of  scarlet  spots  along  the  sides,  would  seem  to  imply 
that  she  deemed  it  the  perfection  of  her  finny  creations,  and  had, 
therefore,  fixed  upon  it  this  distinguishing  mark  of  her  skill. 

The  Salmon  Trout. — Under  this  head  we  include  all  those  fish  of 
the  trout  genus  which  are  found  only  in  those  lakes  of  our  country 
having  no  connection  whatever  with  the  sea.  The  fish  now  under  con- 


RECORDS  OP  A  TOURIST.  59 

sideration  resembles,  in  its  general  appearance,  the  legitimate  salmon, 
but  is  totally  unlike  it  in  several  particulars.  The  salmon  trout,  for 
example,  varies  in  weight  from  three  to  sixty  pounds;  and,  if  every 
body  is  to  be  believed,  they  have  been  taken  in  some  of  our  waters 
weighing  upwards  of  one  hundred  pounds.  They  are  also  of  much  less 
value  than  the  real  salmon  as  an  article  of  food,  there  being  nothing 
at  all  delicate  in  the  texture  or  flavor  of  a  mammoth  fish.  As  sport 
ing  fish,  too,  they  are  of  little  value,  for  they  love  the  gloom  of  deep 
water,  and  are  not  distinguished  for  their  activity.  The  names  besides 
its  own  by  which  this  fish  is  recognized,  are  the  lake  trout  and  the 
Mackinaw  trout ;  and,  by  many  people  who  ought  to  know  better,  they 
are  often  confounded  with  the  genuine  salmon.  As  is  the  case  with 
the  salmon,  they  are  seldom  or  never  found  in  any  of  our  rivers,  but 
chiefly  in  the  lakes  of  the  northern  and  northwestern  States  of  the 
Union,  being  found  in  the  greatest  numbers  at  the  Straits  of  Mack 
inaw,  in  Lake  Superior,  Lake  George,  and  the  other  lakes  of  the  Em 
pire  State,  and  in  Moosehead  Lake. 

The  Sea  Trout. — Our  idea  of  this  fish  is  that  it  is  quite  at  home 
in  the  "deep,  deep  sea,"  but  rather  partial  to  the  brackish  waters  of 
large  rivers  and  the  inland  bays  of  the  American  coast.  And  also  that 
they  vary  in  weight  from  three  to  fifteen  pounds,  and  ought  to  be 
highly  prized  as  a  game-fish,  their  flesh  being  of  a  rosy  hue,  and  excel 
lent,  and  their  courage  and  strength  allied  to  those  of  their  more  aristo 
cratic  cousin — the  salmon.  Like  the  salmon  and  common  trout,  too, 
they  scorn  the  more  common  baits  of  the  fisherman,  and  possess  a  de 
cided  taste  for  the  fly,  albeit  thousands  of  them  are  taken  with  the 
shrimp  and  minnow.  The  waters  where  they  mostly  abound  are  those 
of  the  lower  St.  Lawrence  and  its  tributaries,  the  bay  of  Cape  Cod,  all 
along  the  southern  shore  of  Barnstable,  the  entire  shore  of  Martha's 
Vineyard,  and  the  bays  Delaware  and  Chesapeake.  So  much  for  the 
varieties  of  trout  with  which  we  are  personally  acquainted. 

It  now  behooves  us  to  record  some  of  our  experience  in  trout  fishing, 
but  we  have  already  published  in  our  books  of  travel,  and  elsewhere, 
quite  as  manyj^s/t  stories  as  will  be  readily  believed.  We  shall,  there 
fore,  content  ourselves,  on  this  occasion,  with  a  brief  description  of  our 
favorite  localities. 


60  KECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  the  first  place  that  we  mention  in  this  con 
nection  is  Saut  St.  Marie,  which,  for  many  reasons,  is  an  exceedingly 
attractive  place.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  the  outlet  to  Lake  Superior, 
the  largest  body  of  fresh  water  on  the  globe.  It  is  also  the  western 
terminating  point  of  the  lake  navigation  of  the  north.  From  the 
earliest  periods  of  our  history  to  the  present  time,  it  has  been,  as  it 
were,  the  starting  place  for  all  the  fur  expeditions  by  land  which  have 
ever  penetrated  the  immense  wilderness  bordering  on  Hudson's  Bay 
and  the  Arctic  ocean.  The  fall  of  the  river  St.  Mary,  at  the  spot 
called  the  Saut,  is  nearly  twenty-five  feet  within  the  space  of  half  a 
mile,  so  that  from  a  canoe  at  the  foot  of  the  rapid  it  presents  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  wall  of  foam.  The  width  of  it  is  reputed  to  be  one  mile, 
and  on  the  British  side  are  several  beautiful  islands,  covered  with  hem 
lock,  spruce,  and  pine,  pleasingly  intermingled  with  birch.  The  bed 
of  the  river  at  this  point  consists  chiefly  of  colored  sand-stones,  the 
depth  varies  from  ten  to  perhaps  one  hundred  feet,  and  the  water  is 
perpetually  cold,  and  as  clear  as  it  is  possible  for  any  element  to  be. 
But  what  makes  the  Saut  particularly  attractive  to  the  angler,  is  the 
fact  that  the  common  trout  is  found  here  in  good  condition  throughout 
the  year.  They  are  taken  with  the  fly,  and  from  boats  anchored  in 
the  more  shallow  places  of  the  river,  as  well  as  from  the  shore.  We 
have  known  two  fishermen  to  spend  an  entire  day  in  a  single  reef,  or 
at  one  anchorage,  and,  in  spite  of  sunlight  and  east  winds,  have  known 
them  to  capture  more  than  a  cart  load  of  the  spotted  beauties,  varying 
in  weight  from  half  a  pound  to  three  and  four.  How  it  is  that  the 
fish  of  this  region  always  appear  to  be  in  season  has  never  been  ex 
plained,  but  we  should  imagine  that  either  they  have  no  particular 
time  for  spawning,  or  that  each  season  brings  with  it  a  variety  peculiar 
to  itself.  Those  of  the  present  day  who  visit  Saut  St.  Marie  for  the 
purpose  of  throwing  the  fly,  ought  to  be  fully  prepared  with  tackle, 
and  that  of  the  best  quality.  With  regard  to  the  creature  comforts 
obtainable  in  the  village  of  Saut  St.  Marie,  they  will  be  as  well  sup 
plied  as  in  any  other  place  of  the  same  size  equally  remote  from  the 
civilized  centre  of  the  world.  And  when  the  pleasures  of  trout  fishing 
begin  to  subside  they  can  relieve  the  monotony  of  a  sojourn  here  by 
visiting  the  Indians  in  their  wigwams,  and  seeing  them  capture  (with 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  61 

nets,  in  the  pure  white  foam)  the  beautiful  white  fish;  they  may  also 
with  little  difficulty  visit  the  copper  mines  of  Lake  Superior,  or,  if 
they  would  do  their  country  service  (provided  they  are  Americans), 
they  may  indite  long  letters  to  members  of  Congress  on  the  great  ne 
cessity  of  a  ship  canal  around  the  falls  or  rapids  of  St.  Mary. 

And  now  for  the  island  of  Mackinaw.  For  an  elaborate  description 
of  this  spot  we  refer  our  readers  to  any  of  the  numerous  travelers  who 
have  published  its  praises,  not  forgetting,  by  way  of  being  impartial, 
an  account  from  our  own  pen  already  before  the  public.  The  time  is 
rapidly  approaching,  we  believe,  when  this  island  will  be  universally 
considered  one  of  the  most  healthful,  interesting,  convenient,  and  fash 
ionable  watering-places  in  the  whole  country.  And  the  naturalists, 
not  to  say  the  angler,  will  find  here  the  celebrated  Mackinaw  trout  in 
its  greatest  perfection.  And  when  the  Detroit  and  Chicago  steamer 
runs  into  the  little  crescent  harbor  of  the  island  for  the  purpose  of 
landing  the  traveler,  and  he  discovers  among  the  people  on  the  dock 
some  half-dozen  wheelbarrows  laden  with  fish  four  feet  long  and  weigh 
ing  fifty  or  sixty  pounds,  he  must  not  be  alarmed  at  finding  those  fish 
to  be  Mackinaw  trout,  and  not  sturgeon,  as  he  might  at  first  have 
imagined.  The  truth  is,  the  very  size  of  these  fish  is  an  objection  to 
them,  for,  as  they  have  to  be  taken  in  deep  water,  and  with  a  large 
cord,  there  is  far  more  of  manual  labor  than  sport  in  taking  them. 
But  when  one  of  these  monsters  happens  to  stray  towards  the  shore 
where  the  water  is  not  over  fifty  feet,  it  is  then,  through  the  marvel 
lously  clear  water,  exceedingly  pleasant  to  watch  their  movements  as 
they  swim  about  over  the  beds  of  pure  white  sand.  As  before  inti 
mated,  the  Mackinaw  trout  is  far  inferior  to  the  common  trout  as  an 
article  of  food,  and  to  the  white  fish  almost  infinitely  so. 

The  Mackinaw  trout  (as  is  the  case  with  all  salmon  trout)  is  in  fine 
condition  throughout  the  winter  months ;  and  the  Indians  are  very 
fond  of  taking  them  through  the  ice.  Their  manner  of  proceeding  is 
to  make  a  large  hole  in  the  ice,  over  which  they  erect  a  kind  of  wig 
wam,  so  as  to  keep  out  the  light;  and,  stationing  themselves  above  the 
hole,  they  lure  the  trout  from  the  bottom  by  an  artificial  bait,  and 
when  he  comes  sufficiently  near  pick  him  out  with  a  spear :  and  they 
are  also  taken  with  a  hook.  The  voraciousness  of  the  Mackinaw  trout 
6 


62 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


at  this  season  is  said  to  be  astonishing ;  and  it  is  recorded  of  a  Canadian 
fisherman  that,  having  lost  all  his  artificial  bait,  by  their  being  bitten 
to  pieces,  he  finally  resorted  to  a  large  jackknife  attached  to  a  hook 
which  he  had  in  his  pocket,  and  which  was  swallowed  by  a  thirty 
pound  fish.  Another  anecdote  that  we  have  heard  touching  this  mode 
of  winter  fishing  is  as  follows,  and  shows  the  danger  with  which  it  is 
sometimes  attended.  An  Indian  fisherman,  of  renown  among  the 
tribes  of  Lake  Superior,  while  fishing  on  this  lake  in  the  manner  above 
mentioned,  at  a  considerable  distance  from  the  shore,  was  once  de 
tached  with  a  cake  of  ice  from  the  shore  and  carried  into  the  lake  by 
the  wind,  and  was  never  heard  of  more.  Such  a  death  as  he  must 
have  met  with  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe. 

But  we  cannot  leave  Mackinaw  without  making  a  passing  allusion 
to  the  fish  whose  Indian  name  is  ciscovet.  It  is  a  beautiful  fish,  un 
questionably  of  the  trout  family,  a  bold  biter,  richly  flavored,  and  quite 
beautiful  both  in  symmetry  and  color.  They  are  not  very  abundant, 
and  are  altogether  the  greatest  fishy  delicacy  in  this  region,  excepting 
the  white  fish.  They  weigh  from  five  to  ten  pounds,  and  are  remark 
able  for  their  fatness.  At  the  Island  of  Mackinaw  the  common  trout 
are  not  found  at  all,  but  in  all  the  streams  upon  the  main  shore  of 
Lake  Michigan,  which  is  only  a  short  distance  off,  they  are  very  abun 
dant  and  very  large. 

Another  trouting  region  whose  praises  we  are  disposed  to  sing  is 
that  of  northern  New  York,  lying  between  Lake  George  and  Long 
Lake.  All  the  running  waters  of  this  section  of  country  are  abun 
dantly  supplied  with  common  trout,  and  all  the  lakes  (which  are  quite 
numerous)  with  salmon  trout.  The  scenery  everywhere  is  of  the 
wildest  and  most  imposing  character.  The  two  branches  of  the  noble 
Hudson  here  take  their  rise,  and  almost  every  rood  of  their  serpentine 
courses  abounds  in  rapid  and  deep  pools,  yielding  common  trout  of  the 
largest  size.  But  the  angler  who  visits  this  region  must  not  expect 
to  be  feasted  with  the  fashionable  delicacies  of  the  land,  or  spend  his 
nights  in  luxuriantly  furnished  rooms ;  he  must  be  a  lover  of  salt  pork, 
and  well  acquainted  with  the  yielding  qualities  of  a  pine  floor.  To 
those  of  our  readers  who  would  become  better  acquainted  with  the  re 
gion  alluded  to;  we  would  recommend  the  interesting  descriptions  of 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  63 

Charles  F.  Hoffman,  Esq.,  and  the  spirited  though  somewhat  fantastic 
ones  of  J.  T.  Headley,  Esq. 

In  the  "times  of  old"  we  have  enjoyed  ourselves  exceedingly  in 
making  piscatorial  pilgrimages  among  the  Catskill  and  Sharidaken 
Mountains,  but  their  wilderness  glory  is  rapidly  departing.  We  can 
now  only  recommend  this  region  as  abounding  in  beautiful  as  well  as 
magnificent  scenery.  Now,  while  we  think  of  it,  however,  we  have 
one  little  incident  to  record  connected  with  Shaw's  Lake,  which  beau 
tifies  the  summit  of  one  of  the  Catskills.  Having  once  caught  a  large 
number  of  small  common  trout  in  a  stream  that  ran  out  of  this  lake, 
we  conceived  the  idea  that  the  lake  itself  must  of  necessity  contain  a 
large  number  of  full  grown  fish  of  the  same  species.  With  this  idea 
in  view,  we  obtained  the  services  of  a  mountaineer  named  Hanimel, 
and  tried  our  luck  at  the  lake,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  with  set  lines 
and  live  minnows.  During  the  night  we  caught  no  less  than  forty- 
two  trout,  averaging  in  weight  over  a  pound  apiece.  We  were  of 
course  greatly  elated  at  this  success  ;  and,  having  enjoyed  quite  a  ro 
mantic  expedition,  we  subsequently  published  an  account  of  the  parti 
culars.  A  few  days  after  this,  a  party  of  anglers  residing  in  the  town 
of  Catskill  saw  what  we  had  written,  and  immediately  posted  off  to 
Shaw's  Lake,  for  the  purpose  of  spending  anight  there.  They  did  so, 
and  also  fished  after  the  same  manner  that  we  did,  and  yet  did  not 
capture  a  single  trout.  They  of  course  returned  home  considerably 
disgusted,  and  reported  that  the  lake  in  question  was  covered  with 
dead  eels,  that  the  water  was  alive  with  lizards,  that  they  saw  the 
glaring  eyes  of  a  panther  near  their  watch-fire,  and  that  we  had  been 
guilty  of  publishing  a  falsehood.  It  now  becomes  us  to  deny,  and  in 
the  most  expressive  tone,  this  rough  impeachment,  although  we  fully 
confess  that  there  still  hangs  a  mystery  over  our  piscatorial  good  fortune. 

If  the  anglers  of  New  York  city  are  to  be  believed,  there  is  no  region 
in  the  world  like  Long  Island  for  common  trout.  We  are  informed, 
however,  that  the  fish  are  here  penned  up  in  ponds,  and  that  a  stipu 
lated  sum  per  head  has  to  be  paid  for  all  the  fish  captured.  With  this 
kind  of  business  we  have  never  had  any  patience,  and  we  shall  there 
fore  refrain  from  commenting  upon  the  exploits  o.  trespassing  upon 
the  exclusive  privileges  of  the  cockney  anglers  of  the  empire  city. 


64  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

But  another  trouting  region,  of  which  we  can  safely  speak  in  the 
most  flattering  terms,  is  that  watered  by  the  two  principal  tributaries 
of  the  river  Thames,  in  Connecticut,  viz.,  the  Yantic  and  the  Quinne- 
baug.     It  is,  in  our  opinion,  more  nearly  allied  to  that  portion  of  Eng 
land  made  famous  by  Walton  in  his  Complete  Angler,  than  any  other 
in  the  United  States.     The  country  is  generally  highly  cultivated,  but 
along  nearly  all  its  very  beautiful  streams  Nature  has  been  permitted  to 
have  her  own  way,  and  the  dark  pools  are  everywhere  overshadowed 
by  the  foliage  of  overhanging  trees.     Excepting  in  the  immediate  vi 
cinity  of  the  factories,  trout  are  quite  abundant,  and  the  anglers  are 
generally  worthy  members  of  the  gentle  brotherhood.     When   the 
angler  is  overtaken  by  night,  he  never  finds  himself  at  a  loss  for  a  place 
to  sleep  ;  and  it  has  always  seemed  to  us  that  the  beds  of  this  region 
have  a  (( smell  of  lavender."     The  husbandmen  whom  you  meet  here 
are  intelligent,  and  their  wives  neat,  aflable,  and  polite,  understanding 
the  art  of  preparing  a  frugal  meal  to  perfection.     Our  trouting  recol 
lections  of  this  section  of  New  England  are  manifold,  and  we  would 
part  with  them  most  unwillingly.     Dearly  do  we  cherish,  not  only  re 
collections  of  scenery  and  fishing,  but  of  wild  legends  and  strange 
characters,  bright  skies,  poetic  conceptions,  and  soul-instructing  les 
sons  from  the  lips  of  Nature.     Yes,  and  the  secret  of  our  attachment 
to  the  above-mentioned  streams  may  be  found  in  the  character  of  these 
very  associations.     What  intense  enjoyment  would  not  Father  Walton 
have  derived  from  their  wild  and  superb  scenery !     The  streams  of 
England  are  mostly  famous  for  the  bloody  battles  and  sieges  which 
they  witnessed  for  many  centuries,  and  the  turreted  castles  which  they 
have  only  tell  us  eventful  stories  of  a  race  of  earth-born  kings.     But 
many  of  the  streams  of  our  country,  even  in  these  days,  water  a  virgin 
wilderness,  whose  only  human  denizens  are  the  poor  but  noble  Indian 
tribes,  who  live,  and  love,  and  die  in  their  peaceful  valleys ;  and  the 
unshorn  forests,  with  the  luxuriantly  magnificent  mountains,  sing  a 
perpetual  hymn  of  praise  to  One  who  is  above  the  sky  and  the  King 
of  kings. 

Of  all  the  New  England  States,  however  (albeit  much  might  be 
written  in  praise  of  Vermont  and  New  Hampshire,  with  their  glorious 
Green  and  White  Mountains),  we  believe  that  Maine  is  altogether  the 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  65 

best  supplied.  In  the  head  waters  of  the  Penobscot  and  Kennebec, 
the  common  trout  may  be  found  by  the  thousand ;  and  in  Moosehead 
Lake,  as  before  stated,  salmon  trout  of  the  largest  size  and  in  great 
numbers.  This  is  even  a  more  perfect  wilderness  than  that  in  the 
northern  part  of  New  York,  and  it  is  distinguished  not  only  for  its 
superb  scenery,  but  its  fine  forests  afford  an  abundance  of  large  game, 
such  as  moose,  deer,  bears,  and  wolves,  which  constitute  a  most  decided 
attraction  to  those  disciples  of  the  gentle  art  who  have  a  little  of  the 
fire  of  Nimrod  in  their  natures. 

Another,  and  the  last  region  towards  which  we  would  direct  the 
attention  of  our  readers,  is  that  portion  of  Canada  lying  on  the  north 
shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  At  the  mouth  of  all  the  streams  here 
emptying  into  the  great  river,  and  especially  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sa- 
guenay,  the  sea  trout  is  found  in  its  greatest  perfection.  They  vary 
from  five  to  fifteen  pounds,  and  are  taken  with  the  fly.  But  what 
makes  the  fishing  for  them  particularly  interesting,  is  the  fact  that 
when  the  angler  strikes  a  fish  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  tell,  before 
he  has  seen  his  prize,  whether  he  has  captured  a  salmon  trout,  a  mam 
moth  trout,  common  trout  (which  are  here  found  in  brackish  or  salt 
water),  or  a  magnificent  salmon,  glistening  in  his  silver  mail. 


66  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


ROCK    CREEK. 

It  was  a  delightful  autumnal  morning,  and  we  had  called  upon  a 
friend  (who,  like  ourself,  is  a  lover  of  nature),  and  proposed  that  we 
should  spend  a  day  in  the  woods;  whereupon  he  whistled  for  his 
handsome  greyhound,  and  with  our  sketch-books  in  hand,  we  departed. 
We  turned  our  faces  towards  RocJt  Creek,  which  rises  in  the  central 
portion  of  Montgomery  county,  Maryland,  and  after  running  a  dis 
tance  of  some  fifteen  miles,  finally  empties  into  the  Potomac,  between 
Washington  and  G-eorgetown.  And  now,  before  going  one  step  fur 
ther,  we  wish  to  inform  the  reader  that  it  is  not  our  intention  to  give 
a  complete  description  of  this  charming  stream :  to  accomplish  that 
task  faithfully  it  would  be  necessary  for  us  to  write  a  thousand  poems 
and  paint  at  least  a  thousand  pictures,  every  one  of  which  should  be  a 
gem.  We  purpose  only  to  record  the  more  prominent  impressions 
which  have  been  left  upon  our  mind  by  the  excursions  to  which  we 
allude. 

We  struck  the  creek  just  without  the  limits  of  the  city,  and  the 
first  object  that  attracted  our  attention  was  "  Decatur's  tomb."  This 
memorial  of  a  departed  naval  hero  occupies  the  summit  of  a  pictur 
esque  hill,  and  is  shaded  from  the  sun  by  a  brotherhood  of  handsome 
oak  trees.  It  is  built  of  bricks  (which  are  painted  white),  and  resem 
bles  in  shape  a  small  Grecian  temple  without  its  columns,  and  is  with 
out  any  inscription.  The  remains  of  the  commodore  were  originally 
deposited  here,  but  his  ashes  have  subsequently  been  removed  to 
Philadelphia  and  deposited  in  his  family  vault.  The  land  upon  which 
this  tomb  is  located  is  called  Kalorama,  and  belongs  to  an  estate  origi 
nally  owned  by  Joel  Barlow,  which  fact  is  alone  sufficient  to  give  it  a 
reputation ;  but  it  is  somewhat  more  interesting  to  know  that  it  was 
upon  this  spot  of  earth  that  Robert  Fulton  first  tried  his  experiments 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  67 

while  studying  out  the  science  of  steam  navigation.  This  was  at  the 
time  when  Barlow  and  Fulton  were  on  the  most  intimate  terms  of 
friendship,  and  Kalorama  was  Fulton's  principal  home.  A  gentleman 
residing  in  Georgetown  informs  us  that  he  can  remember  the  time 
when  an  old  wooden  shed  was  standing  in  the  vicinity  of  Rock  Creek, 
where  Fulton  tried  many  of  his  experiments ;  and  we  are  also  informed 
that  the  parlor  walls  of  Kalorama  were  once  ornamented  with  fresco 
paintings  executed  by  Fulton  at  the  request  of  his  friend  Barlow. 
Subsequently  to  that  period  and  while  yet  a  member  of  Barlow's 
family,  Fulton  kept  an  account-book,  in  which  he  recorded  all  his 
business  transactions,  and  that  curious  and  valuable  relic  of  the  de 
parted  engineer  is  now  in  the  possession  of  a  citizen  of  Washington,  by 
whose  politeness  we  are  privileged  to  gratify  our  antiquarian  readers 
with  a  brief  description  of  the  account-book  in  question.  It  is  of  the 
size  of  an  ordinary  mercantile  cash-book,  and  although  only  half  filled 
with  writing,  it  contains  a  record  of  business  transactions  occurring 
during  the  years  1809,-'10,-'11,-'12,-'13,  and  '14.  It  seems  to 
have  been  kept  with  little  regard  to  method,  but  nevertheless  contains 
a  great  variety  of  items  which  are  quite  valuable  in  a  historical  point 
of  view.  On  a  fly  leaf,  for  example,  we  have  the  following  record  : — 

"1813.  The  dry-dock  finished  at  the  steamboat  works  in  Jersey 
City  on  the  14th  October.  On  that  day,  at  1  o'clock,  the  original 
North  River  steamboat  entered  for  the  first  time,  and  I  believe  is  the 
first  vessel  that  has  been  in  a  dry-dock  in  the  United  States."  : — 

With  regard  to  the  name  of  the  "  original  North  River  steamboat/' 
I  am  not  certain;  but  on  the  same  leaf  with  the  above,  I  find  the  fol 
lowing  memorandum : — 

"  Oar  of  Neptune — length  of  her  bottom  157  feet;  do.  on  deck  171 
feet  6  inches;  extreme  width  of  the  bottom  22  feet;  do.  on  deck  26 
feet." 

With  a  view  of  showing  the  profitableness  of  the  steam-boating  busi 
ness  in  the  olden  times,  I  append  the  following : — 


68  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

"  Total  number  of  passengers  in  the  Raritan  for  1809 : 

202  to  Elizabeth  town  Point,  at  4s.  each 101  00 

1, 480  to  Amboy,  at  8         do 1,480  50 

692  to  Brunswick,  at  12         do 1,038  75 

90  way 55  20 

Total  receipts 2,675  45 

"  Of  this  sum  one-sixth,  equal  445  90,  to  patentees." 

Of  the  various  persons  with  whom  Fulton  seems  to  have  had  ex 
tensive  dealings,  the  principal  one  was  Robert  R.  Livingston,  from 
whom  large  sums  of  money  were  frequently  received.  The  principal 
items  under  the  head  of  1813  (which  seems  to  have  been  a  very  busy 
year),  give  one  an  idea  of  the  extent  of  FULTON'S  business,  and  is  as 
follows : — 

" Steamboats  building  and  engaged: 

2  from  New  Orleans  to  Louisville  and  St  Louis, 

Mississippi         $60,000 

1     "  Pittsburg  to  Louisville,  Ohio 25,000 

1     "  Richmond  to  Norfolk,  James  River 35,000 

1     "  Washington  to  Malbourg,  Potomac 20,000 

1  on  Long  Island  Sound,  from  New  York  to  Hartford     .  40,000 

1     "     East  River  ferry  boat  to  Brooklyn         ....  20,000 

1,  Petersburg       .     .     .     • 25,000 

1,  Elizabeth         .  30,000 

1,  Robert  Fulton 25,000 

1,  Charleston 30,000 

1,  Cape  Fear 22,000 


Total         $332,000" 

Another  record  which  I  find  under  the  same  head  is  this : — 

"  Waters  under  the  direction  of  B.  H.  Latrobe,  or  such  of  them  as 
he  shall  have  a  steamboat  on  and  in  actual  operation  by  January,  1815. 
Such  as  shall  not  have  the  funds  raised  for  one  boat  within  one  year 
from  May  1,  1813,  shall  be  at  the  disposal  of  Livingston  and  Fulton. 

"  1st,  Potomac,  from  Georgetown  to  Potomac  Creek. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  69 

"  2d,  for  the  sounds  from  Charleston  to  Savannah. 
"  3d,  from  Pittsburg  to  Louisville. 
"  4th,  the  Cumberland  from  Nashville  to  Louisville. 
"  5th,  the  Tennessee  to  Louisville. 

"  For  raising  companies,  funds,  and  establishing  these,  he  has  to 
have  of  each  one-third  of  the  patentee's  rights." 

Under  the  head  of  1812,  we  find  a  statement  giving  the  expenses  of 
a  North  River  steamboat  (what  one  we  know  not),  which  amounted  to 
$6JLO  per  month,  the  boat  making  seventy-six  trips.  And  as  to  wages, 
we  gather  that  the  captain  received  $50  per  month;  pilot,  $35;  en 
gineer,  $35;  seamen  and  firemen,  $20  each;  cook,  $16;  servants,  $14 ; 
and  chambermaid,  $8. 

Another  record  readeth  as  follows  : — 

"  Gentlemen  of  influence  in  Cincinnati,  Ohio. — Jacob  Burnet,  Esq., 
Martin  Baum,  Esq.,  Jesse  Hunt,  General  Findley,  General  Gano,  Mr. 
Stanly." 

The  following  I  find  under  the  head  of  "  Notes  on  Steamboats  :" — 

"The  Comet  constructed  at  Pittsburg  in  the  spring  of  1813,  for 
Mr.  Smith,  is  52  feet  long  and  8  feet  beam,  cylinder  6j  inches  dia 
meter,  18  inches  stroke,  vibrating  motion,  no  condenser  or  air-pump. 
The  water  wheel  in  the  stern,  6  feet  diameter,  8  paddles  2  feet  6 
inches  long  and  11  inches  wide.  The  boiler  14  feet  long,  2  feet  6 
inches  wide,  with  a  flue  high,  steam  from  50  to  60  pounds  to  the  inch 
square,  20  to  30  double  stroke  a  minute.  This  is  Evans's  idea  of 
steam  power  ~by  high  steam.  It  was  the  Marquis  of  Worcester's  120 
years  ago  ;  and  Mr.  Watts  30  years  ago  tried  and  abandoned  it." 

Another  curious  memorandum,  which  is  without  a  caption,  is  as 
follows : — 

"  10,000  acres  of  pine  land  on  Egg  Harbor  River,  the  property  of 
Ebenezer  Tucker,  of  Tuckerton,  Burlington  county,  known  by  the 
name  of  Judge  Tucker.  Should  this  land  produce  only  ten  cords  to 
an  acre,  it  will  be  1,000  to  100  acres,  or  100,000  cords.  The  steam 
boats  from  New  York  will  use  1,500  cords  a  year,  or,  for  New  York 


TO  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

and  Albany,  3,000  cords;  thence  20  years  would  consume  the  wood 
of  6,000  acres,  in  which  time,  the  first  cut  would  grow  up,  and  thus 
this  10,000  acres  would  perpetually  supply  the  steamboats/' 

The  longest  record  in  this  account  book  (like  all  the  others)  is  in 
Fulton's  own  handwriting,  and  entitled  "Livingston  and  Fulton  vs. 
Lake  Champlain  boat."  It  occupies  four  closely  written  pages,  is 
dated  October  12,  1810,  and  signed  by  Robert  R.  Livingston.  It  is 
an  interesting  document,  but  as  the  volume  in  question  is  about  to  be 
presented  to  the  New  York  Historical  Society,  I  will  leave  it  with 
that  honorable  body  to  give  it  to  the  public  in  some  of  their  interest 
ing  publications. 

But  enough  of  this  episode.  Though  Rock  Creek  may  have  been 
the  birthplace  of  Fulton's  steamboat  idea,  yet  it  is  certain  that,  with 
all  his  fiery  monsters  at  our  command,  we  could  never  ascend  this 
beautiful  stream  without  the  use  of  our  legs,  and  we  will  therefore  re 
join  our  companion  and  continue  our  pedestrian  pilgrimage. 

Our  next  halting-place,  after  we  left  Kalorama,  was  at  an  old  mill, 
located  in  the  centre  of  a  secluded  glen.  With  the  humming  music 
of  its  wheels,  with  the  polite  attentions  of  the  floury  miller,  and  the 
rustic  beauty  of  his  cottage  and  children,  we  were  well  pleased,  but 
with  the  natural  loveliness  of  the  place  we  were  delighted.  A  greater 
variety  of  luxuriant  foliage  I  never  before  witnessed  in  so  limited  a 
nook  of  the  country.  From  one  point"  of  view  a  scene  presented  itself 
which  was  indeed  exquisite.  We  were  completely  hemmed  in  from 
the  great  world,  and,  in  addition  to  the  mill  and  the  cottage,  we  had  a 
full  view  of  the  stream,  which  was  spanned  by  a  rustic  foot  bridge, 
upon  which  a  couple  of  children  were  standing  and  throwing  pebbles 
in  the  water,  while  a  few  paces  beyond  a  man  was  pulling  to  the  shore 
a  small  boat  laden  with  wood.  On  either  hand,  a  number  of  proud- 
looking  oaks  towered  against  the  sky,  and  by  the  water's  edge  in  the 
distance  stood  a  stupendous  silver  willow,  literally  white  with  age ; 
and,  to  complete  the  picture,  we  had  in  one  place  a  mysterious  brick 
ruin,  and  in  the  foreground  a  variety  of  mossy  rocks,  upon  which,  in 
a  superb  attitude,  stood  our  beautiful  greyhound,  watching  a  little 
army  of  minnows  sporting  in  a  neighboring  pool.  And  with  what 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  71 

great  name  does  our  reader  imagine  this  beautiful  place  is  associated  ? 
None  other  than  that  of  the  late  John  Quincy  Adams,  who  became 
its  purchaser  many  years  ago,  and  to  whose  estate  (as  I  believe)  it 
now  belongs.  And  many  a  time,  in  other  days,  has  that  distinguished 
statesman  spent  his  morning  under  the  dome  of  the  capitol  in  political 
debate,  and  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  in  this  romantic  glen,  list 
ening  to  the  singing  of  a  thousand  birds,  which  had  built  their  nests 
in  the  branches  of  his  own  trees. 

The  roads  which  cross  the  channel  of  Rock  Creek,  and  frequently 
run  for  a  long  distance  along  its  winding  vale,  are  distinguished  for 
their  loneliness,  and  of  course  well  adapted  to  please  the  poetic  mind. 
Along  many  of  them  you  might  walk  for  miles  without  meeting  a  human 
being,  but  then  you  would  be  sure  to  frighten  many  a  rabbit,  and  de 
stroy  the  gossamery  hammocks  of  unnumbered  spiders.  While  passing 
along  the  road  which  took  us  from  Adams'  Mill  further  up  the  stream, 
we  chanced  to  overtake  a  small  negro  boy  (who  was  almost  without 
any  rags  on  his  back,  and  whose  straw  hat  looked  as  if  the  cows  had 
feasted  upon  its  brim),  with  whom  our  companion  held  the  following 
dialogue : — 

"  Boy,  where  are  you  going  ?" 

"  I'm  gwine  down  to  Mr.  Pierce's." 

And  here — taking  out  his  pencil,  holding  up  his  sketch-book,  and 
looking  very  fiercely  at  the  darkie — our  friend  exclaimed,  "  I'll  sketch 
you,  you  rascal." 

Whereupon  the  poor  boy  uttered  a  most  frightful  yell,  and  ran  away 
in  the  greatest  consternation,  as  if  we  had  been  a  pair  of  murderers. 

Our  next  stopping-place  was  at  a  cider  mill,  where  an  old  negro, 
with  the  assistance  of  a  mule,  was  grinding  apples,  and  another  man 
was  pressing  the  sweet  juice  into  a  mammoth  tub.  A  lot  of  boys,  who 
were  out  on  a  chestnut  gathering  excursion,  had  discovered  the  mill, 
and  having  initiated  themselves  into  the  good  graces  of  the  darkies, 
were  evidently  enjoying  a  portion  of  Mr.  Horace  Grreeley's  celebrated 
"  good  time." 

But  it  is  now  about  noon,  and  we  have  reached  that  spot  upon  Rock 
Creek  known  as  Pierce' s  Plantation.  Here  we  found  the  ruins  of  an 
old  saw-mill,  and  while  transferring  a  portrait  of  it  to  our  sketch-book, 


72  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

with  its  half  decayed  dam,  and  two  or  three  hoary  sycamores  and  elms, 
we  discovered  a  boy  in  the  act  of  fishing.  We  bowed  to  him  as  to  a 
brother  angler,  and  looking  into  his  basket,  we  found  snugly  lying 
there  no  less  than  half  a  dozen  handsome  fall*  fish,  weighing  from  six 
ounces  to  a  pound  each.  These  we  of  course  purchased,  and  then  in 
quired  of  the  boy  if  he  knew  of  a  house  in  that  vicinity  where  we 
could  likely  have  the  fish  cooked.  He  replied  in  the  affirmative, 
whereupon  we  sent  him  to  the  dwelling  he  mentioned  for  the  purpose 
of  warning  the  inmates  of  our  approach.  On  our  arrival  there  we  were 
warmly  welcomed,  and  in  due  time  we  had  the  satisfaction  of  enjoying 
as  finely  cooked  fish  as  ever  tickled  the  palate  of  Tzaak  "Walton  or  Sir 
Humphrey  Davy.  Not  only  were  we  waited  upon  with  marked  polite 
ness,  but  were  treated  with  an  abundance  of  delicious  currant  wine 
and  new  cider,,  and  for  all  this  truly  southern  hospitality  we  could 
make  no  return,  excepting  in  the  way  of  gratitude. 

But,  pleasant  as  was  our  reception  and  repast  at  this  Rock  Creek 
cottage,  our  own  mind  was  more  deeply  impressed  with  the  exquisitely 
charming  appearance  of  the  cottage  itself  and  surrounding  buildings. 
It  struck  us  as  one  of  the  most  comfortable  and  poetical  nooks  that  we 
ever  beheld.  It  seemed  to  have  everything  about  it  calculated  to  win 
the  heart  of  a  lover  of  nature  and  rural  life.  Though  situated  on  the 
side  of  a  hill  and  embowered  in  trees,  it  commands  a  pleasing  landscape ; 
and  as  it  was  built  upwards  of  one  hundred  years  ago,  it  is  interesting 
for  its  antiquity.  Surmounted  as  it  is  with  a  pointed  roof,  green  with 
the  moss  of  years,  and  flanked  by  a  vine-covered  porch,  the  vegetation 
which  clusters  around  it  is  so  abundant  that  you  can  hardly  discover 
its  real  proportions.  And  all  the  out-buildings  are  in  strict  keeping 
with  the  cottage  itself.  It  is,  upon  the  whole,  one  of  the  most  inte 
resting  nooks  to  be  found  anywhere  within  an  hour's  ride  of  the 
capitol;  and  we  can  fully  understand  what  a  certain  wealthy  gentleman 
felt  when  he  made  the  remark  that  this  Rock  Creek  cottage  was  the 
only  place  he  had  ever  seen  which  he  would  prefer  to  his  own,  albeit 

*   The  Fall  Fish  of  Rock  Creek  is  evidently  identical  with  the  Dace  of  Wal 
ton  |  it  is  really  a  beautiful  and  sweet  fish,  and  well  deserves  its  local  reputation. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  73 

his  own  residence  is  one  of  the  most  costly  and  beautiful  in  the  Dis 
trict  of  Columbia. 

The  scenery  of  Rock  Creek  for  several  miles  above  the  Pierce  Plan 
tation  is  chiefly  distinguished  for  its  simple  and  quiet  beauty.  The 
whole  vale  in  fact  is  remarkably  luxuriant,  and  probably  contains  as 
great  a  variety  of  foliage  as  can  be  found  in  the  same  space  in  any 
section  of  the  country.  For  miles  and  miles  do  the  trees  come  together 
as  if  for  the  purpose  of  protecting  the  murmuring  stream  from  the 
kisses  of  the  sunlight,  and  even  in  September  birds  and  flowers  are 
quite  abundant ;  for  here  it  is  (it  would  seem)  that  summer  lingers 
longest  in  the  lap  of  autumn.  And  such  vines,  too,  as  cluster  along 
the  margin  of  this  stream !  The  graceful  net-work  which  they  have 
formed  over  the  tiny  waterfalls  and  the  deep  dark  pools,  with  all  their 
tendrils,  are  graceful  beyond  compare;  and  while  happy  children  go 
there  at  times  to  gather  the  luscious  grapes,  we  are  certain  that  the 
little  people  of  fairyland  are  well  content  with  their  allotted  privilege 
of  using  the  swing  of  the  vine,  while  in  the  enjoyment  of  their  mid 
night  revels. 

But  we  find  that  we  are  getting  to  be  decidedly  too  poetical  for  our 
own  safety  and  the  comfort  of  our  readers,  and  as  the  sun  has  long 
since  passed  the  meridian,  it  is  time  that  we  should  think  of  returning 
home.  And,  besides,  as  we  shall  return  to  the  city  by  a  different  route 
from  the  one  we  came,  we  purpose  to  introduce  to  our  readers  one  or 
two  more  "  places  of  note"  which  are  identified  with  Rock  Creek. 

And  first  as  to  the  Rock  Creek  church,  which  lies  somewhere  between 
one  and  two  miles  eastward  of  the  stream  from  which  it  derives  its 
name.  The  original  Rock  Creek  chapel  was  founded  in  the  year  1719, 
and  the  bricks  employed  in  its  construction  were  brought  from  England. 
It  became  a  parish  church  in  1726,  at  which  time  the  glebe  land  (as 
at  the  present  time,  I  believe)  amounted  to  one  hundred  acres.  It 
was  rebuilt  in  the  year  1768,  and  many  improvements  added  in  the 
year  1808.  The  first  rector  of  the  church  was  the  Rev.  George  Mur- 
dock,  who  officiated  for  thirty-four  years;  his  successors  were  Rev. 
Alexander  Williamson,  Rev.  Thomas  Read,  Rev.  Alfred  Henry 
Dashields,  Rev.  Thomas  G-.  Allen,  Rev.  Henry  C.  Knight,  Rev.  Levin 
I.  Grills,  Rev.  Edward  Waylen,  and  the  present  incumbent,  Rev.  Wil- 


74  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

liam  A.  Harris.  Of  Mr.  Read  it  is  recorded  that  he  presided  over  the 
church  for  forty  years,  during  the  whole  of  which  time  he  was  absent 
only  thirty  months;  and  with  regard  to  Mr.  Waylen,  it  may  be  stated 
that  he  compiled  an  interesting  history  of  the  Parish,  which  was  pub 
lished  in  1845. 

The  appearance  of  Rock  Creek  church  as  it  now  stands  is  simply 
that  of  an  old-fashioned  but  very  comfortable  brick  church.  It  occu 
pies  the  summit  of  a  gentle  hill,  and  is  completely  surrounded  with  a 
brotherhood  of  fine  oak  and  chestnut-trees.  On  every  side  of  it  tombs 
and  grave-stones  are  quite  abundant,  and  some  of  them  are  so  very  old 
as  to  be  almost  entirely  hidden  in  the  earth.  Although  we  spent  nearly 
an  hour  in  this  city  of  the  dead  deciphering  the  various  epitaphs,  we 
only  stumbled  upon  one  which  attracted  our  particular  attention ;  it  was 
a  simple  stone  slab,  covered  with  moss,  upon  which  was  this  touching 
record : — 

"  Grant,  Lord,  when  I  from  death  do  tvake, 
I  may  of  endless  life  partake. 
J.  R. 

1802." 

And  now,  by  way  of  variety,  suppose  our  readers  tarry  with  us  for 
a  few  moments  at  the  residence  of  a  certain  retired  banker,  which  lies 
only  a  short  distance  from  the  Rock  Creek  church.  With  the  elegant 
mansion  and  highly  cultivated  grounds,  everybody  must  of  necessity 
be  pleased,  for  we  believe  that  a  more  tasteful  and  superb  place  is  not 
to  be  found  in  the  country.  It  caps  the  summit  of  the  loftiest  hill  in 
the  vicinity  of  Washington,  and  while  in  one  direction  it  commands  a 
view  of  the  Allegheny  Mountains,  in  another  lies  spread  out  a  com 
plete  panoramic  view  of  the  metropolis  of  the  land,  with  a  magnificent 
reach  of  the  Potomac  extending  a  distance  of  at  least  forty  miles.  To 
comment  upon  the  spirits  who  preside  over  the  mansion  to  which  we 
have  alluded  is  not  our  purpose,  but  we  may  mention  in  passing  that 
among  the  numerous  productions  of  art  which  adorn  the  interior  are 
two  capital  pictures  by  Morland,  and  a  very  fine  landscape  by  Gains 
borough.  But  enough.  The  sun  is  already  near  the  horizon,  and  even 
now  the  latter  half  of  our  walk  home  must  be  by  the  light  of  the 
moon.  And  so  much  for  a  vagabondizing  day  on  Rock  Creek. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  75 


LILLY    LARNARD. 

All  that  life  can  rate 

Worth  name  of  life,  in  her  hath  estimate; 
Youth,  beauty,  wisdom,  courage,  virtue,  all 
That  happiness  and  prime  can  happy  call. 

SKAKSPEARE. 

LILLY  LARNARD  is  an  only  child,  the  pride  of  her  mother,  and  the 
delight  of  her  father,  who  is  the  clergyman  of  a  secluded  and  beautiful 
New  England  village.  We  desire  to  make  our  reader  acquainted  with 
this  dear  girl,  but  what  can  we  find  to  say  which  hath  not  been  anti 
cipated  by  the  poet?  Her  character  is  already  revealed.  Well,  then, 
since  we  happen  to  be  an  intimate  acquaintance  and  are  in  the  mood, 
we  will  say  something  about  her  by  way  of  illustration. 

As  we  passed  by  her  cottage  this  afternoon,  which  stands  on  the 
southern  extremity  of  the  green,  about  a  hundred  paces  from  the  meet 
ing-house,  we  noticed  an  almost  startling  stillness  about  the  premises, 
as  if  the  place  were  deserted;  but  this  was  owing  to  the  heat  and  na 
tural  silence  of  the  hour.  The  closed  window-blinds,  half  hidden  by 
woodbine  and  honeysuckle;  the  open  doors,  with  a  kitten  sunning 
itself  upon  the  sill  of  one  of  them,  bespoke  it  not  only  inhabited,  but 
the  abode  of  peace  and  contentment.  In  a  green  grape-vine  arbor  be 
side  the  house  sat  our  little  heroine,  engaged  in  drawing  some  curious 
flowers,  which  she  had  gathered  in  the  meadow  during  her  morning 
walk.  At  this  moment  two  of  her  female  cousins  stopped  at  the  front 
gate,  and  called  her  to  go  with  them  on  a  ramble  through  the  wood 
lands.  We  had  just  time  to  change  from  one  hand  to  the  other  our 
heavy  string  of  trout,  for  we  were  returning  home  from  angling,  when 
out  she  came,  bounding  like  a  fawn,  robed  in  white  muslin,  her  gipsy 
bonnet  awry,  and  a  crimson  scarf  thrown  carelessly  over  her  shoulders. 
This  simple  dress  is  a  specimen  of  her  taste  in  such  matters,  and  the 


76  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

very  thing  to  correspond  with  her  dark-brown  curling  hair;  regular 
pearly  teeth,  blue,  Madonna-like  eyes,  and  blooming  cheeks.  A  snow- 
white  terrier,  her  constant  playmate  and  companion,  soon  came  follow 
ing  after,  and  having  licked  the  hands  of  the  two  friends,  as  a  token 
of  recognition,  leaped  a  neighboring  fence,  and  led  the  way  across  a 
clover-field.  When  we  turned  to  look  again,  the  happy  group  were 
crossing  a  rude  bridge  at  the  foot  of  a  hill;  and  following  the  path  a 
short  distance,  they  were  lost  to  view. 

Lilly  Larnard  is  now  in  her  sixteenth  year.  She  is  passionately 
fond  of  the  country ;  and  we  do  believe,  could  she  obtain  permission, 
would  spend  half  her  time  in  the  open  air.  If 'she  has  but  one  sum 
mer  hour  to  spare,  she  goes  no  farther  than  her  favorite  brook,  half  a 
mile  from  home,  where  she  will  angle  away  her  time,  wandering  up 
the  stream  to  where  the  overhanging  trees  throw  a  soft  twilight  upon 
her  path ;  and,  if  necessity  requires  it,  will  off  with  her  slippers,  and 
wade  in  after  a  bunch  of  lilies  or  some  golden  pebbles.  The  neigh 
boring  farmer,  as  he  comes  to  the  post-office  early  in  the  morning,  if 
he  chances  to  pass  the  parsonage,  will  most  likely  be  saluted  by  a  sweet 
smile  and  bow.  And  from  whom,  do  you  think  ?  From  Lilly  Lar 
nard,  to  be  sure,  who  is  airing  the  parlor,  dusting  the  furniture,  or  ar 
ranging  some  creeping  flowers  beside  the  door  with  her  pretty  face 
almost  hidden  in  a  "  kerchief  white."  And  it  may  be,  when  mowing 
in  one  of  his  fields  in  the  afternoon,  he  will  be  surprised  by  a  hearty 
laugh  in  an  adjoining  copse,  and  on  looking  around  behold  a  party  of 
girls  returning  from  the  strawberry  hills,  with  Lilly  as  their  leader. 
She  is  a  pure-hearted  lover  of  nature,  and  everything,  from  the  name 
less  flower  to  the  cloud-capt  mountain,  hath  a  language  which  causes 
her  to  feel  that  the  attributes  of  God  are  infinite.  For  her  gayer  hours, 
Nature  "  hath  a  tale  of  gladness,  and  a  smile  and  eloquence  of  beauty, 
and  glides  into  her  darker  musings,  with  a  mild  and  gentle  sympathy, 
which  steals  away  their  sharpness  ere  she  is  aware." 

But  how  does  she  busy  herself  at  home?  it  will  be  asked.  She  is 
an  early  riser;  and  the  first  thing  she  does  in  the  morning,  after  she 
has  left  her  room,  is  to  put  everything  in  its  place  which  is  out  of  place. 
She  kindly  directs  and  helps  Betty,  the  servant,  to  perform  those 
numerous  little  household  duties,  such  as  feeding  the  chickens  and 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  77 

straining  the  milk,  not  forgetting  to  give  pussy  a  saucer  full  of  the 
warm,  sweet  liquid.  She  sets  the  breakfast  table,  prepares  the  toast, 
and  all  those  kindred  delicacies,  and  pours  out  the  coffee,  sitting  like 
a  fairy  queen  in  the  old  high-backed  chair,  with  her  parents  on  either 
side.  And  when  her  father  clasps  his  hands  to  implore  a  blessing, 
she  meekly  bows  her  head,  sweetly  responding  to  the  solemn  Amen. 
If  anything  is  wanted  from  the  kitchen,  she  is  up  and  away,  and  back 
again  almost  in  a  minute,  so  sprightly  is  she  in  all  her  movements. 
During  the  forenoon,  she  is  generally  helping  her  mother  to  sew  or 
knit,  or  do  anything  else  which  is  required  to  be  done ;  or,  if  her  father 
wants  her  to  read  one  of  his  chaste  and  deeply  religious  sermons,  the 
sweetness  of  her  eloquent  voice  makes  it  doubly  impressive.  In  the 
afternoon,  she  is  generally  engaged  in  some  benevolent  duty.  Not  one 
in  a  hundred  is  so  well  acquainted  with  the  poor  of  the  parish. 

She  enters  the  abode  of  the  poor  widow,  and,  besides  administering 
to  her  temporal  wants,  gives  her  the  overflowing  sympathy  of  her  own 
warm  heart,  administering  at  the  same  time  the  consolations  of  religion. 
It  is  a  common  sight  to  see  her  tripping  along  the  street,  with  a  bas 
ket  on  her  arm ;  and  the  clerk,  or  more  stately  merchant,  as  he  sees 
her  pass  his  door,  takes  particular  pains  to  make  a  bow,  inwardly  ex 
claiming — "Who  now  is  to  become  the  debtor  of  Lilly  Larnard?" 
And  the  stranger  who  may  have  met  her  in  his  walk,  fails  not  to  in 
quire  of  his  host,  at  evening,  the  name  of  the  lovely  creature  who 
wears  a  white  dress  and  gipsy  bonnet. 

Lilly  is  a  Christian,  not  only  a  church-going  Christian,  but  her  life 
is  one  continued  round  of  charitable  deeds  and  pious  duties,  almost 
worthy  of  an  angel.  She  has  a  class  of  little  boys  in  the  Sabbath 
school,  and  they  are  all  so  fond  of  their  amiable  teacher  that  I  do  be 
lieve  they  would  undergo  almost  any  trial  for  her  sake.  She  loves  her 
Bible  too,  and  would  be  unhappy  were  she  deprived  of  the  privilege  of 
reading  it  every  day.  When  she  rises  from  her  pillow  at  dawn,  she 
kneels  beside  her  couch,  and  breathes  her  offering  of  prayer ;  and  so, 
too,  when  the  day  is  closed  and  she  retires  to  repose. 

Her  father  is  a  clergyman  of  easy  fortune.  The  prayer  of  his  youth 
seems  to  have  been  kindly  answered  by  the  Most  High.  About  one 
year  ago  he  bought  a  beautiful  chestnut  pony,  and,  all  saddled  and 


78  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

bridled,  presented  it  to  Lilly  on  her  fifteenth  birthday.  As  might  be 
expected,  she  was  perfectly  transported  with  the  gift.  "  Oh !  father," 
she  exclaimed,  "  how  I  will  try  to  merit  your  approbation  in  every 
action  of  my  life." 

A  colored  boy,  named  Tommy,  is  Lilly's  groom  and  page,  and  he 
seems  to  love  the  pony  and  his  mistress  above  everything  else  in  the 
world.  A  smarter  and  better-hearted  page  did  not  follow  a  high-born 
lady  of  the  feudal  times.  Lilly  has  now  become  a  first-rate  rider ;  and 
often,  when  with  her  friends,  takes  pleasure  in  boasting  of  her  noble 
accomplishment,  and  the  speed  of  her  horse.  When  she  has  been  out 
riding,  she  almost  always  manages  to  canter  through  the  middle  street 
of  the  village  on  her  return.  Sometimes  she  is  alone  with  her  dog, 
and  sometimes  with  a  female  friend;  but  the  forelock  of  her  pony  is 
always  surmounted  by  a  few  flowers,  or  a  cluster  of  green  leaves,  for 
she  has  a  queer  notion  of  ransacking  the  most  secluded  corners  of  the 
field  and  wood.  Only  a  week  ago  (the  very  day  we  caught  that  two- 
pound  trout),  while  standing  upon  a  hill,  we  saw  her  trying  to  leap  a 
narrow  but  deep  brook,  and  she  did  not  give  up  trying  until  she  had 
accomplished  the  deed.  We  thought  that  if  her  pony  had  been  gifted 
with  the  power  of  speech,  he  would  have  exclaimed,  "  Well  done,  you 
courageous  girl,  you  possess  a  wonderful  deal  of  spunk !" 

Lilly  left  school  about  two  years  ago,  because  her  father  chose  to 
superintend  her  education  himself.  She  is  a  good  scholar  in  every 
thing  requisite  for  a  lady.  You  could  hardly  puzzle  her  with  questions 
in"  history,  geography,  or  mathematics.  Her  modesty  and  simplicity 
of  character  are  so  great  that  you  would  be  surprised  at  the  extent  of 
her  book-information  and  practical  knowledge.  She  has  a  wonderful 
talent  for  making  herself  agreeable  under  all  circumstances.  If  she 
meets  a  beggar  woman  in  the  street,  she  will  talk  familiarly  with  her 
about  her  sorrows,  instructing  her  to  bear  up  under  every  trial.  She 
is  the  universal  favorite  of  the  whole  village.  All  who  know  her,  the 
poor  and  the  rich,  from  the  child  of  three  years  to  the  hoary  head,  all 
love  her  with  the  affection  felt  toward  a  sister  or  daughter.  She  smiles 
with  those  who  smile,  and  weeps  with  those  who  weep.  Servant-girls 
consult  with  her  about  purchasing  a  new  dress,  and  little  children  in 
vite  her  to  participate  with  them  in  their  pastimes. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  79 

Lilly  Larnard  is  a  lover  of  poetry.  Yes,  whether  she  sees  it  in  the 
primrose  and  the  evening  cloud ;  or  hears  it  in  the  laughing  rivulet 
and  the  song  of  birds ;  or  reads  it  in  the  pages  of  Spenser,  Milton, 
Shakspeare,  Wordsworth,  or  Coleridge.  And  she  is  a  writer,  too,  of 
sweet  and  soothing  poetry,  just  such  as  should  always  emanate  from 
the  pure-hearted.  To  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  her  poetic  powers,  we 
will  here  quote  her  last  effort,  which  was  written  with  a  pencil  on  a 
fly-leaf  of  Dana's  Poems  while  walking  on  the  sea-shore;  for,  be  it 
known  that  the  village  of  her  birth  is  within  sound  of  the  never-ceas 
ing  roar  of  the  Atlantic.  The  title  of  it  is — 

A  SEA- SHORE  ECHO. 

"  Alone  !  and  on  the  smooth,  hard,  sandy  shore  of  the  boundless 
sea  !  A  lovelier  morning  never  dawned  upon  the  world  of  waters.  0  ! 
how  balmy,  how  clear,  how  soul-subduing,  how  invigorating  is  the  air ! 
Calmness  sits  throned  upon  the  unmoving  clouds,  whose  colors  are  like 
the  sky,  only  of  a  brighter  hue.  One  of  them,  more  ambitious  than 
its  fellows,  is  swimming  onward,  a  wanderer,  and  companionless.  0 
that  I  could  rest  upon  its  'unrolling  skirts/  and  take  an  aerial  pilgrim 
age  around  the  globe — now  looking  down  upon  its  humming  cities, 
and  fruitful  and  cultivated  plains ;  and  again,  upon  some  unpeopled 
wilderness  or  ocean  solitude  !  But  alas !  the  peerless  beauty  of  that 
light  cloud  will  be  extinguished,  when  the  sun  shall  have  withdrawn 
his  influence,  and,  if  not  entirely  dispersed,  will  take  another  shape, 
and  make  its  home  in  darkness.  And  so  have  I  seen  a  man,  when 
wandering  from  the  heavenly  sunshine  of  religion,  passing  from  his 
cradle  to  the  grave. 

"  As  I  gaze  upward  into  yon  blue  dome,  the  anxieties  of  life  are  all 
forgotten,  and  my  heart  throbs  with  a  quicker  pulse,  and  beats  with 
an  increasing  thrill  of  joy.  How  holy  and  serene  those  azure  depths 
of  air  !  Strange,  that  aught  so  beautiful  should  canopy  a  world  of 
tears,  decay,  and  death  !  Yonder  sky  is  the  everlasting  home  of 
countless  worlds;  the  vast  ethereal  chamber,  where  are  displayed  the 
wonders  of  the  thunder,  and  lightning,  and  rainbow ;  and  a  mirror,  too, 
reflecting  the  glorious  majesty,  the  wisdom  and  power  of  the  Omni 
potent.  Lo  !  across  my  vision  there  is  floating  another  cloud,  whiter 


80  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

than  the  driven  snow  !  Rearward,  there  trails  along  another,  and 
still  another,  until  pile  on  pile  they  reach  upward  to  the  very  zenith ; 
and  oh,  how  gorgeous  the  scenes  which  my  fancy  conjures  up,  delighted 
with  their  changing  loveliness !  One  moment,  I  behold  a  group  of 
angels  reclining  at  ease  upon  the  summit  of  a  pearly  battlement;  and 
now,  summoned  by  a  celestial  strain  of  melody,  they  spread  their  pin 
ions  for  a  higher  flight — a  flight  into  the  diamond  portals  of  the  New 
Jerusalem.  Again,  a  river  of  pure  white  foam  rolls  swift  but  noiseless 
through  unpeopled  valleys,  hemmed  in  by  airy  mountains  of  wondrous 
height,  until  its  waters  empty  into  a  tranquil  sea,  boundless  and 
{  beautiful  exceedingly ;'  and  on  this,  a  myriad  of  swanlike  barges  are 
gliding  to  and  fro,  without  a  breeze,  while  the  voyagers  are  striking 
their  golden  harps,  and  singing  hymns  of  sweetest  strain  and  holiest 
import,  whose  echoes  die  away  on  the  shadowy  waves.  There !  all 
these,  like  the  dreams  of  youth,  are  melting  into  nothingness;  and 
my  eyes  now  rest  only  upon  the  dark  blue  ocean. 

"The  green  waves  of  the  Atlantic,  with  their  undulating  swell,  come 
rolling  in  upon  the  sand,  making  a  plaintive  music,  sweeter  than  the 
blended  harmonies  of  a  thousand  instruments.  Would  that  I  might 
leap  in  and  wrestle  with  them,  and,  when  overcome  by  fatigue,  lay  my 
heated  brow  upon  those  cool  watery  pillows,  rocked  to  sleep  as  in  a 
cradle,  while  my  lullaby  would  be  the  moaning  of  the  sea.  The  mists 
of  morning  are  all  dispelled,  and  the  glorious  sunshine,  emblem  of 
G-od's  love,  is  bathing  with  effulgent  light  the  ocean  before  me,  and 
behind  me  the  mountains  and  valleys  of  my  own  loved  country. 
Look !  how  the  white  caps  chase  each  other  along  the  watery  plain, 
like  the  milk-white  steeds,  striving  in  their  freedom  to  outstrip  the 
breeze.  Whence  comes  this  breeze,  and  whither  is  it  going  ?  Three 
days  ago,  at  set  of  sun,  it  spread  its  wing  near  to  a  sandy  desert  of 
Africa,  where  a  caravan  of  camels,  and  horses,  and  men,  had  halted 
for  the  night;  and  at  the  dawning  of  to-morrow,  it  will  be  sporting 
with  the  forest-trees  of  the  western  wilderness  ! 

"  Far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  the  sea  is  ( sprinkled  o'er  with  ships/ 
their  white  sails  gleaming  in  the  sunlight.  One  of  them  has  just 
returned  from  India,  another  from  the  Pacific,  and  another  from  the 
Arctic  Sea.  Years  have  elapsed  since  they  departed  hence.  They 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  81 

have  been  exposed  to  a  thousand  dangers;  but  the  great  God,  who 
holds  the  ocean  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  has  conducted  them  back 
to  their  desired  homes.  How  many  silent  prayers  of  thanksgiving, 
and  what  a  thrilling  and  joyous  shout,  will  echo  to  the  shore,  as  those 
storm-beaten  mariners  drop  anchor  in  their  native  waters  !  Yonder, 
too,  are  other  ships,  bound  to  the  remotest  corners  of  the  earth.  They 
seem  to  rejoice  in  their  beauty  and  speed,  and  proud  is  their  bearing; 
but  will  they  ever  return?  Alas!  the  shadowy  future  alone  can  answer. 
Farewell,  a  long  farewell,  ye  snowy  daughters  of  the  ocean." 

But  to  return.  Lilly  Larnard  is  fond  of  music,  too,  and  plays 
delightfully  on  the  harp.  Her  voice  is  sweeter  than  the  fall  of  waters 
when  heard  at  a  distance  in  the  stillness  of  the  twilight  hour.  She 
knows  nothing  of  fashion ;  and  if  she  did,  would  consider  it  beneath 
her  dignity  to  be  incommoded  or  swayed  by  it.  Instead  of  decking 
herself  with  gew-gaws  for  a  brilliant  appearance  in  the  gay  saloon, 
within  sound  of  the  rude  jest  and  foolish  flattery,  she  strives  by  watch 
fulness  and  care  to  purify  her  daily  conduct ;  for  hers  is  not  less  prone 
to  sin  than  all  other  human  hearts.  "Necklaces  does  she  sometimes 
wear,  in  her  playful  glee,  made  of  the  purple  fruit  that  feeds  the  small 
birds  in  the  moors,  and  beautiful  is  the  gentle  stain  then  visible  over 
the  blue  veins  of  her  swan-like  bosom."  Beautiful  as  she  is,  a  feeling 
of  vanity  never  yet  entered  the  heart  of  the  rector's  daughter.  She 
feels  too  deeply  the  truth,  that  personal  charms,  which  are  the  only 
pride  of  weak-minded  persons,  time  will  eventually  transform  into 
wrinkled  homeliness ;  and  that  an  affectionate  heart  and  good  under 
standing  will  endure,  and  become  more  perfect,  until  the  pilgrimage 
of  life  is  ended. 

Never  has  Lilly  Larnard  been  more  than  thirty  miles  away  from 
the  village  of  her  birth.  She  has  read  of  cities,  and  the  busy  multi 
tudes  that  throng  them  ;  of  armies  and  navies ;  of  politics  and  war ; 
but  all  these  things  to  her  are  but  as  the  visions  of  a  dream.  She  is 
ignorant  of  the  real  condition  and  character  of  the  great  world,  for 
naught  but  the  echo  of  its  din  has  ever  fallen  upon  her  ear.  She 
listens  with  wonder  to  the  deeds  of  which  we  sometimes  tell  her  we 
have  been  an  unwilling  witness  in  the  wilderness  of  men.  She  thinks 


82  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

it  strange,  that  the  inhabitants  of  cities  think  so  much  of  the  present 
life,  and  so  little  of  the  future.  Her  days  have  been  spent  in  inno 
cence  beneath  the  blue  dome  of  the  illimitable  sky,  inhaling  the  pure 
unadulterated  air  of  the  country,  now  sporting  in  the  sunshine,  and 
now  sprinkled  by  a  refreshing  shower;  while  the  loveliest  of  flowers 
and  birds,  and  holy  and  tender  affections,  have  been  her  hourly  com 
panions  ;  and  her  nights  have  passed  away  in  pleasant  dreams  of  that 
bright  world  beyond  the  stars. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  83 


BASSE    FISHING. 

"We  delight,  as  all  the  world  has  long  well  known,  in  every  kind  of  fishing, 
from  the  whale  to  the  minnow." 

CHRISTOPHER  NORTH. 

THE  beautiful  fish  now  chosen  for  our  " subject  theme"  is  a  genuine 
native  American,  and  ranks  high  among  the  game  fish  of  the  country. 
When  fully  grown,  he  is  commonly  about  fifteen  inches  long,  two 
inches  in  thickness,  and  some  five  inches  broad,  weighing  perhaps  five 
or  six  pounds.  He  belongs  to  the  perch  family,  has  a  thick  oval  head, 
a  swallow  tail,  sharp  teeth,  and  small  scales.  In  color,  he  is  deep  black 
along  the  back  and  sides,  growing  lighter  and  somewhat  yellowish 
towards  the  belly.  He  has  a  large  mouth  and  is  a  bold  biter,  feeds 
upon  minnows  and  insects,  is  strong  and  active,  and  when  in  season 
possesses  a  fine  flavor.  He  spawns  in  the  spring,  recovers  in  July, 
and  is  in  his  prime  in  September. 

The  black  basse  is  peculiarly  a  Western  fish,  and  is  not  known  in 
any  of  the  rivers  which  connect  immediately  with  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 
They  are  found  in  great  abundance  in  the  upper  Mississippi  and  its 
tributaries,  in  all  the  great  lakes  excepting  Superior,  in  the  upper  St. 
Lawrence,  in  Lake  Champlain  and  Lake  George,  and  nearly  all  the 
smaller  lakes  of  New  York.  In  portions  of  the  last-named  State  they 
are  called  the  Oswego  basse,  in  the  southwest  the  black  perch,  and  in 
the  northwest,  where  they  are  most  abundant,  the  black  basse.  In 
nearly  all  the  waters  where  they  abound  has  it  been  our  good  fortune 
to  angle  for  the  fish,  and  his  very  name  is  associated  with  much  of  the 
most  beautiful  scenery  in  the  land.  Our  own  experience,  however, 
in  basse  fishing  is  chiefly  identified  with  Lake  George,  Lake  Erie,  Lake 
Michigan,  and  the  upper  Mississippi,  and  to  these  waters  alone  is  it 
our  purpose  to  devote  a  few  paragraphs. 

And,  first,  as  to  the  beautiful  "  Horicon"  of  the  North.     Embo- 


84  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

somed  as  it  is  among  the  wildest  of  mountains,  and  rivaling,  as  do  its 
waters,  the  blue  of  heaven,  it  is  indeed  all  that  could  be  desired,  and 
in  every  particular  worthy  of  its  fame.  Although  this  lake  is  distin 
guished  for  the  number  and  variety  of  its  trout,  I  am  inclined  to  be 
lieve  that  the  black  basse  found  here  aiford  the  angler  the  greatest 
amount  of  sport.  They  are  taken  during  the  entire  summer,  and  by 
almost  as  great  a  variety  of  methods  as  there  are  anglers ;  trolling 
with  a  minnow,  however,  and  fishing  with  a  gaudy  fly  from  the  nume 
rous  islands  in  the  lake,  are  unquestionably  the  two  most  successful 
methods.  As  before  intimated,  the  basse  is  a  very  active  fish,  and, 
excepting  the  salmon,  we  know  of  none  that  perform,  when  hooked, 
such  desperate  leaps  out  of  the  water.  They  commonly  frequent  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  shores,  especially  those  that  are  rocky,  and 
are  seldom  taken  where  the  water  is  more  than  twenty  feet  deep. 
They  commonly  lie  close  to  the  bottom,  rise  to  the  minnow  or  fly  quite 
as  quickly  as  the  trout,  and  are  not  as  easily  frightened  by  the  human 
form. 

The  late  William  Caldwell,  who  owned  an  extensive  estate  at  the 
southern  extremity  of  Lake  G-eorge,  was  the  gentleman  who  first 
introduced  us  to  the  basse  of  said  lake,  and  we  shall  ever  remember 
him  as  one  of  the  most  accomplished  and  gentlemanly  anglers  we  have 
ever  known.  He  was  partial  to  the  trolling  method  of  fishing,  how 
ever,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  performed  a  piscatorial  expedition 
was  somewhat  unique  and  romantic.  His  right  hand  man  on  all  occa 
sions  was  a  worthy  mountaineer,  who  lived  in  the  vicinity  of  his  man 
sion,  and  whose  principal  business  was  to  take  care  of  the  angler's 
boat,  and  row  him  over  the  lake.  For  many  years  did  this  agreeable 
connection  exist  between  Mr.  Caldwell  and  his  boatman,  and,  when 
their  fishing  days  were  over,  was  happily  terminated  by  the  deeding 
of  a  handsome  farm  to  the  latter  by  his  munificent  employer.  But 
we  intended  to  describe  one  of  Mr.  CaldwelFs  excursions. 

It  is  a  July  morning,  and  our  venerable  angler,  with  his  boatman, 
has  embarked  in  his  feathery  skiff.  The  lake  is  thirty-three  miles 
long,  and  it  is  his  intention  to  perform  its  entire  circuit,  thereby  voy 
aging  at  least  seventy  miles.  He  purposes  to  be  absent  about  a  week, 
and,  having  no  less  than  half  a  dozen  places  on  the  lake  shore  where 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  85 

he  can  find  a  night's  lodging,  he  is  in  no  danger  of  being  compelled 
to  camp  out.  His  little  vessel  is  abundantly  supplied  with  fishing 
tackle,  as  well  as  the  substantiate  of  life,  and  some  of  its  liquid  lux 
uries.  He  and  Care  have  parted  company,  and  his  heart  is  now 
wholly  open  to  the  influences  of  nature,  and  therefore  buoyant  as  the 
boat  which  bears  him  over  the  translucent  waters.  The  first  day  his 
luck  is  bad,  and  he  tarries  at  a  certain  point  for  the  purpose  of  witness 
ing  the  concluding  scene  of  a  deer  hunt,  and  hearing  the  successful 
hunter  expatiate  upon  his  exploits  and  the  quality  of  his  hounds.  On 
the  second  day  the  wind  is  from  the  south,  and  he  secures  no  less  than 
twenty  of  the  finest  basse  in  the  lake.  On  the  third  day  he  also  has 
good  luck,  but  is  greatly  annoyed  by  thunder  showers,  and  must  con 
tent  himself  with  one  of  the  late  magazines  which  he  has  brought 
along  for  such  emergencies.  The  fifth  and  sixth  days  he  has  some 
good  fishing,  and  spends  them  at  Grarfield's  Landing  (for  the  reader 
must  know  that  there  is  a  tiny  steamboat  on  Lake  G-eorge),  where  he 
has  an  opportunity  of  meeting  a  brotherhood  of  anglers,  who  are  bait 
ing  for  the  salmon  trout ;  and  the  seventh  day  he  probably  spends 
quietly  at  Lyman's  Tavern,  in  the  companionship  of  an  intelligent 
landscape  painter  (spending  the  summer  there),  arriving  at  home  on 
the  following  morning. 

As  to  our  own  experience  in  regard  to  basse  fishing  in  Lake  G-eorge, 
we  remember  one  incident  in  particular  which  illustrates  an  interesting 
truth  in  natural  history.  We  were  on  a  trouting  expedition,  and  hap 
pened  to  reach  the  lake  early  in  June,  before  the  basse  were  in  season, 
and  we  were  stopping  with  our  friend  Mr.  Lyman,  of  Lyman's  Point. 
The  idea  having  occurred  to  us  of  spearing  a  few  fish  by  torchlight, 
we  secured  the  services  of  an  experienced  fisherman,  and  with  a  boat 
well  supplied  with  fat  pine,  we  launched  ourselves  on  the  quiet  waters 
of  the  lake  about  an  hour  after  sundown.  Basse  were  very  abundant, 
and  we  succeeded  in  killing  some  half  dozen  of  a  large  size.  We 
found  them  exceedingly  tame,  and  noticed,  when  we  approached,  that 
they  were  invariably  alone,  occupying  the  centre  of  a  circular  and 
sandy  place  among  the  rocks  and  stones.  We  inquired  the  cause  of 
this,  and  were  told  that  the  basse  were  casting  their  spawn,  and  that 
the  circular  places  were  the  beds  where  the  young  were  protected.  On 


86  RECORDS  OP  A  TOURIST. 

hearing  this  our  conscience  was  somewhat  troubled  for  what  we  had 
been  doing,  but  we  resolved  to  take  one  more  fish  and  then  go  home. 
We  now  came  to  a  large  bed,  around  the  edge  of  which  we  discovered 
a  number  of  very  small  fish,  and  over  the  centre  of  the  bed  a  very 
large  and  handsome  basse  was  hovering.  We  darted  our  spear,  and 
only  wounded  the  poor  fish.  Our  companion  then  told  us  that  if  we 
would  go  away  for  fifteen  minutes,  and  then  return  to  the  same  spot, 
we  should  have  another  chance  at  the  same  fish.  We  did  so,  and  the 
prediction  was  realized.  We  threw  the  spear  again,  and  again  missed 
our  game,  though  we  succeeded  in  nearly  cutting  the  fish  in  two  pieces. 
"You  will  have  the  creature  yet;  let  us  go  away  again,"  said  my  com 
panion.  We  did  so,  and  lo  !  to  our  utter  astonishment,  we  again  saw 
the  fish,  all  mutilated  and  torn,  still  hovering  over  its  tender  offspring  ! 
To  relieve  it  of  its  pain  we  darted  the  spear  once  more,  and  the  basse 
lay  in  our  boat  quite  dead ;  and  we  returned  to  our  lodgings  on  that 
night  a  decidedly  unhappy  man.  We  felt,  with  the  ancient  mariner, 
that  we  "had  done  a  hellish  deed,"  and  most  bitterly  did  we  repent 
our  folly.  Ever  since  that  time  have  we  felt  a  desire  to  atone  for  our 
wickedness,  and  we  trust  that  the  shade  of  Izaak  Walton  will  receive 
our  humble  confession  as  an  atonement.  The  basse  that  we  took  on 
the  night  in  question,  owing  to  their  being  out  of  season,  were  not  fit 
to  eat,  and  we  had  not  even  the  plea  of  palatable  food  to  offer.  The 
maternal  affection  of  that  black  basse  for  its  helpless  offspring,  which 
it  protected  even  unto  death,  has  ever  seemed  to  us  in  strict  keeping 
with  the  loveliness  and  holiness  of  universal  nature. 

And  now  with  regard  to  Lake  Erie.  We  know  not  of  a  single  pro 
minent  river  emptying  into  this  lake  in  which  the  black  basse  is  not 
found  in  considerable  numbers.  The  sport  which  they  yield  to  the 
disciples  of  Walton  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  lake  has  been  de 
scribed  by  Greorge  W.  Clinton,  Esq.,  of  Buffalo,  in  a  series  of  pisca 
torial  letters  published  in  the  journals  of  that  city;  and,  as  we  would 
not  interfere  with  him  while  throwing  the  fly  in  his  company  on  the 
same  stream,  neither  will  we  trespass  upon  that  literary  ground  which 
he  has  so  handsomely  made  his  own.  When,  however,  we  hear  the 
green  waves  of  Lake  Erie  washing  its  western  shores,  we  feel  that  we 
have  a  right  to  be  heard,  for  in  that  region,  when  it  was  for  the  most 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  87 

a  lonely  wilderness,  did  we  first  behold  the  light  of  this  beautiful 
world.  With  the  windings  of  the  Sandusky,  the  Maumee,  the  Hu 
ron,  and  the  Detroit  rivers  we  are  quite  familiar,  and  we  know  that 
they  all  yield  an  abundance  of  black  basse;  but  with  the  river  Raisin 
we  are  as  well  acquainted  as  a  child  could  be  with  its  mother's  bosom. 
Upon  this  stream  was  the  home  of  our  boyhood,  and  at  the  bare  men 
tion  of  its  name  unnumbered  recollections  flit  across  the  mind,  which 
to  our  hearts  are  inexpressibly  dear. 

Even  when  a  mere  boy  we  esteemed  the  black  basse  as  a  peer  among 
his  fellows,  and  never  can  we  forget  our  first  prize.  We  had  seated  our- 
self  at  the  foot  of  an  old  sycamore,  directly  on  the  margin  of  the 
river  Raisin,  and  among  its  serpent-like  roots  we  were  fishing  for  a 
number  of  tiny  rock  basse  that  we  had  chanced  to  discover  there.  We 
baited  with  a  worm,  and  while  doing  our  utmost  to  capture  a  two-ounce 
fish,  we  were  suddenly  frightened  by  the  appearance  of  a  black  basse, 
which  took  our  hook  and  was  soon  dangling  in  the  top  of  a  neighbor 
ing  bush.  Our  delight  at  this  unexpected  exploit  was  unbounded, 
and,  after  bothering  our  friends  with  an  account  of  it  until  the  night 
was  far  spent,  we  retired  to  bed,  and  in  our  dreams  caught  the  same 
poor  fish  over  and  over  again  until  morning.  From  that  day  to  this, 
rivers  and  fish  have  haunted  us  like  a  passion. 

Like  the  trout,  the  black  basse  seems  to  be  partial  to  the  more  ro 
mantic  and  poetical  places  in  the  rivers  which  they  frequent.  On  the 
river  Raisin,  for  example,  we  used  to  enjoy  the  rarest  of  sport  at  an 
old  and  partly  dilapidated  mill-dam,  which  was  covered  with  moss, 
and  at  the  foot  of  which  were  some  of  the  nicest  "  deep  holes"  ima 
ginable.  Wherever  the  timbers  of  the  dam  formed  a  "  loop-hole  of 
retreat,"  there  we  were  always  sure  of  finding  a  basse.  And  we  also 
remember  an  old  mill,  in  whose  shadowy  recesses,  far  down  among  the 
foundation  timbers,  the  basse  delighted  to  congregate,  and  where  we 
were  wont  to  spend  many  of  our  Saturday  afternoons;  but  our  favorite 
expeditions  were  those  which  occupied  entire  days,  and  led  us  along  the 
banks  of  the  Raisin,  in  the  vicinity  of  its  mouth,  and  far  beyond  the 
hearing  of  the  mill-wheel  or  the  clink  of  the  blacksmith's  anvil.  At 
such  times  the  discovery  of  old  sunken  logs  was  all  that  we  cared  for, 
for  we  knew  that  the  basse  delighted  to  spend  the  noontide  hours  in 


88  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

their  shadow.  And  when  we  could  borrow  a  canoe,  and  obtain  a  foot 
hold  on  the  extreme  point  of  a  wooded  island,  so  as  to  angle  in  the 
deep  and  dark  holes,  we  seldom  failed  in  realizing  all  the  enjoyment 
that  we  anticipated.  And,  if  we  chanced  to  come  across  a  party  of 
fishermen  drawing  the  seine,  we  were  sure  to  forget  our  promise  to 
our  parents  to  return  home  before  sundown,  and,  far  too  often  for  a 
good  boy,  did  we  remain  with  them  even  until  the  moon  had  taken 
her  station  in  the  sky.  To  count  the  fish  thus  captured,  and  to  hear 
the  strange  adventures  and  exploits  talked  over  by  these  fishermen, 
was  indeed  a  delightful  species  of  vagabondizing;  and  we  usually 
avoided  a  very  severe  scolding  by  returning  home  "  with  one  of  the 
largest  basse  ever  caught  in  the  river/'  which  we  may  have  taken  with 
the  hook  or  purchased  of  the  fishermen.  But  we  are  talking  of  the 
"  times  of  the  days  of  old,"  and  as  we  remember  that  the  glories  of 
the  River  Raisin,  in  regard  to  its  scenery  and  its  fish,  are  for  ever  de 
parted,  we  hasten  to  other  waters. 

In  fancy  we  have  now  crossed  the  peninsula  of  Michigan,  or  rather 
compassed  it  by  means  of  the  splendid  steamers  which  navigate  the 
waters  of  Huron  and  Michigan,  and  we  are  now  on  the  banks  of  the 
river  St.  Joseph.  This  is  a  small  river,  and  unquestionably  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  in  the  western  world.  It  runs  through  an  exceed 
ingly  fertile  country,  abounds  in  luxuriant  islands,  is  invariably  as 
clear  as  crystal,  and  in  its  course  winding  to  an  uncommon  degree. 
It  is  navigable  for  small  steamboats  to  the  village  of  Niles,  fifty  miles 
from  its  mouth,  and  for  batteaux  somewhere  about  fifty  miles  further, 
towards  its  source.  Early  in  the  spring  it  abounds  in  the  more  com 
mon  varieties  of  fresh-water  fish,  but  throughout  the  summer  and  au 
tumn  it  yields  the  black  basse  in  the  greatest  abundance. 

Our  piscatorial  experience  upon  the  St.  Joseph  has  not  been  very 
extensive,  but  we  deem  it  worthy  of  a  passing  notice.  We  were  on 
our  way  to  the  "  Far  West,"  and  had  been  waylaid  in  the  beautiful 
village  of  Niles  by  one  of  the  fevers  of  the  country.  The  phy 
sician  who  attended  us  was  a  genuine  angler,  and  we  believe  that  our 
speedy  recovery  was  owing  almost  entirely  to  the  capital  fish  stories 
with  which  he  regaled  us  during  that  uncomfortable  period.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  one  thing  we  very  clearly  remember,  which  is  this :  that  we 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  89 

enjoyed  some  of  the  most  remarkable  basse  fishing  in  his  company  that 
we  have  ever  experienced.  It  was  in  September,  and  we  commenced 
.  fishing  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  We  baited  with  live  min 
nows,  fished  with  hand  lines,  and  from  a  boat  which  was  firmly  an 
chored  at  a  bend  of  the  river,  and  just  above  a  long  and  very  deep 
hole,  two  miles  above  the  village  of  Niles.  Our  lines  were  upwards 
of  a  hundred  feet  long,  and,  as  the  current  was  very  rapid,  the  pull 
ing  in  of  our  minnows  was  performed  with  very  little  trouble.  The 
sun  was  shining  brightly,  and  the  only  sounds  which  floated  in  the  air 
were  the  singing  of  birds,  the  rustling  of  the  forest  leaves,  and  the 
gentle  murmuring  of  the  waters  as  they  glided  swiftly  along  the  luxu 
riant  banks  of  the  stream.  We  fished  a  little  more  than  two  hours, 
but  in  that  time  we  caught  no  less  than  ninety-two  basse,  a  dozen  of 
which  weighed  over  five  pounds,  and  the  great  majority  not  less  than 
two  pounds.  Such  remarkable  luck  had  never  been  heard  of  before 
in  that  vicinity,  and  of  course  for  several  days  thereafter  the  river  was 
covered  with  boats  j  but,  strange  to  say,  nearly  all  the  anglers  returned 
home  disappointed.  On  a  subsequent  occasion,  the  doctor  and  his  pa 
tient  made  another  trial  at  their  favorite  spot,  but  succeeded  in  taking 
only  a  single  fish,  from  which  circumstance  we  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  we  had  actually  cleared  that  portion  of  the  river  of  its  fishy  inha 
bitants. 

Before  quitting  the  St.  Joseph,  we  ought  to  state  that  its  beautiful 
tributaries,  the  Pipe  Stone  and  the  Paw-Paw,  afford  a  superior  quality 
of  basse,  and  that  no  pleasanter  fishing-ground  can  anywhere  be  found 
than  at  the  mouth  of  the  parent  river  itself.  With  regard  to  the 
other  principal  rivers  of  western  Michigan,  we  can  only  say  that  the 
Kalamazoo  and  the  Grand  Elver  are  not  one  whit  behind  the  St. 
Joseph  in  any  of  those  charms  which  win  the  affections  of  the 
angler  and  the  lover  of  nature. 

We  come  now  to  speak  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  in  whose  translucent 
waters,  as  before  stated,  the  black  basse  is  found  in  "  numbers  number 
less.  "  Not  only  do  they  abound  in  the  river  itself  and  its  noble  tribu 
taries,  but  also  in  the  lakes  of  the  entire  region.  The  only  people  who 
angle  for  them,  however,  are  the  travelers  who  occasionally  penetrate 
into  this  beautiful  wilderness  of  the  Northwest.  Generally  speaking, 

8* 


90  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

the  basse,  as  well  as  all  other  kinds  of  fish,  are  taken  by  the  Indians 
with  a  wooden  spear,  and  more  to  satisfy  hunger  than  to  enjoy  the 
sport.  The  angler  who  would  cast  a  fly  above  Fort  Snelling  must  ex 
pect  to  spend  his  nights  in  an  Indian  lodge  instead  of  a  white-washed 
cottage,  to  repose  upon  a  bear-skin  instead  of  a  bed  (such  as  Walton 
loved)  which  "  smells  of  lavender/'  and  to  hear  the  howl  of  the  wolf 
instead  of  a  "  milk-maid's  song." 

As  our  piscatorial  recollections  of  the  section  of  country  just  named 
are  not  particularly  interesting,  and  as  it  is  attracting  much  attention 
at  the  present  time  (1849),  under  the  new  name  of  Minesota,  or  Turbid 
Water,  we  shall  conclude  our  essay  with  the  following  general  description. 

According  to  the  final  provisions  of  the  act  of  Congress  which  has 
lately  transferred  this  extensive  wilderness  into  a  Territory  of  the  Uni 
ted  States,  it  is  bounded  on  the  north  by  the  British  possessions,  on 
the  east  by  Lake  Superior  and  the  State  of  Wisconsin,  on  the  south 
by  the  State  of  Iowa,  and  on  the  west  by  the  Missouri  river  and  the 
extensive  possessions  of  the  Indians.     The  surface  of  the  country  is 
generally  level,  and  it  has  been  estimated  that  at  least  two-thirds  of  its 
area  consists  of  prairie  land,  the  remainder  being  forest.     Much  of  the 
soil  is  fertile,  and  easy  of  cultivation.     It  is  watered  by  no  less  than 
six  of  the  most  suberb  rivers  on  the  face  of  the  earth — the  Mississippi 
and  Missouri,  River  Au  Jacques,  the  St.  Peters,  or  Minesota  River, 
the  Red  River,  emptying  into  Hudson's  Bay,  and  the  St.  Louis,  empty 
ing  into  Lake  Superior.     Were  it  not  for  the  Falls  of  St.  Mary  (a 
canal  having  been  built  around  those  of  Niagara),  a  vessel  sailing  from 
the  city  of  New  York,  by  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  great  lakes,  might 
deposit  her  merchandise  almost  within  its  very  heart  j  while  it  is  a 
well-known  fact  that  a  New  Orleans  steamer  may,  by  the  Mississippi 
and  Missouri  rivers,  transport  the  products  of  the  South  to  its  more 
remote  extremities.     The  two  facts,  that  Minesota  is  laved  by  the 
waters  of  the  largest  lake  in  the  world,  and  that  in  its  very  centre  are 
located  at  least  a  thousand  lesser  lakes,  which  constitute  the  fountain- 
head  of  the  Father  of  Waters,  are  in  themselves  sufficient  to  give  it  a 
world-wide  reputation.     In  addition  to  all  this,  the  climate  of  this  ter 
ritory  is  all  that  could  be  desired.     The  winters  are  indeed  somewhat 
long  and  cold,  but  they  are  regular ;  and,  as  to  the  summers,  we  have 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  91 

never  witnessed  any  that  were  to  us  so  bracing  and  delightful.  The 
dreaded  ague  is  a  stranger  in  this  region,  and  the  very  night  airs  seem 
to  increase  the  strength  of  the  voyagers  and  Indian  traders,  who,  for 
the  most  part,  are  the  only  civilized  inhabitants  of  the  domain.  Game 
is  found  in  the  greatest  abundance,  from  the  buffalo  to  the  deer  and 
the  grouse,  and  there  is  no  region  in  the  world  where  can  be  found 
a  greater  variety  of  fresh-water  fish. 

The  Indian  population  is  by  far  the  most  extensive  now  existing 
within  its  limits,  but  the  nations  are  only  two  in  number,  the  Chip- 
peways  and  the  Sioux.  The  wrongs  which  these  unfortunate  children 
of  the  wilderness  have  for  many  years  past  endured  from  the  more  un 
principled  traders  are  among  the  blackest  crimes  of  the  white  man,  and 
it  is  to  be  most  sincerely  hoped  that  a  new  order  of  things  will  now  be 
brought  about  which  may  in  some  slight  degree  atone  for  those  wrongs. 
To  us,  who  have  been  a  devoted  lover  of  the  red  man,  even  from 
childhood,  the  fact  that  the  race  is  literally  withering  from  the  land  of 
their  fathers  is  indeed  depressing  and  sickening.  With  all  his  faults, 
we  dearly  love  the  poor  neglected  and  deeply-wronged  Indian,  and  we 
verily  believe  that  our  beloved  country  can  never  prosper,  as  it  might, 
until  we  have  done  something  to  atone  for  the  unnumbered  outrages 
committed  against  the  race  by  our  more  unworthy  citizens.  But  we 
are  wandering. 

With  regard  to  the  towns  or  villages  existing  at  the  present  time  in 
Minesota,  we  can  offer  but  little.  So  far  as  we  now  remember,  they 
consist  of  only  three :  Fond  du  Lac,  on  the  St.  Louis,  a  mere  trading 
post ;  St.  Peters,  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  of  that  name,  distinguished 
as  the  site  of  Fort  Snelling,  as  being  within  five  or  six  miles  of  the 
Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  and  at  the  head  of  steamboat  navigation ;  and 
the  hamlet  of  St.  Paul,  which  is  on  the  west  side  of  the  Mississippi, 
only  about  six  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Peter's.  The  fact 
that  the  last-named  place  has  been  selected  as  the  seat  of  government 
of  the  new  Territory  renders  it  of  some  interest.  It  is  situated  on  a 
bluff  which  rises  some  fifty  feet  above  the  Mississippi,  and,  though 
flanked  by  a  thinly-wooded,  or  rather  prairie  country,  the  soil  is  fertile, 
and  the  scenery  both  up  and  down  the  Mississippi  is  exceedingly  beau- 


92  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

tiful.  Unlike  that  portion  running  south  of  the  Missouri,  this  portion 
of  the  great  river  is  invariably  translucent,  and  for  many  reasons  is 
interesting  to  an  uncommon  degree.  Steamboats  drawing  only  a  few 
inches  of  water  navigate  this  portion  of  the  river  during  the  whole 
summer.  When  we  visited  St.  Paul  (1846)  the  majority  of  its  dwell 
ings,  if  not  all  (numbering  not  more  than  half  a  dozen),  were  built  of 
logs,  and,  though  very  comfortable,  were  not  particularly  showy.  At 
that  time,  too,  the  only  business  carried  on  there  was  that  of  trading 
with  the  Indians.  Our  most  vivid  recollections  of  the  place  are  asso 
ciated  with  a  supper  that  we  enjoyed  in  the  cabin  of  the  principal 
trader.  We  had  lost  ourself  in  traveling  by  land  from  Lake  St. 
Croix  to  the  village,  and  for  many  hours  before  our  arrival  we  had 
been  in  a  particularly  hungry  mood.  We  entered  St.  Paul  just  as  the 
sun  was  setting ;  and  it  so  happened  that,  on  the  very  outskirts  of  the 
place,  we  chanced  to  kill  a  couple  of  young  coons.  A  portion  of  one 
of  these  animals,  fried  in  its  own  fat,  with  a  dish  of  tea,  constituted 
our  supper,  and  a  more  truly  satisfactory  supper  we  have  hardly  ever 
enjoyed,  albeit  we  have  been  quite  an  extensive  traveler  in  the  wilder 
ness.  If  the  citizens  of  St.  Paul  only  welcomed  their  newly-appointed 
governor  by  giving  him  a  coon  supper,  we  feel  confident  that  he  was 
well  pleased  with  the  reception. 

With  regard  to  the  agricultural  products,  we  cannot  speak  with 
much  confidence.  Wild  rice,  we  know,  grows  in  great  abundance,  and 
is  the  staple  article  of  food  with  the  Indians.  For  corn,  the  climate 
is  considered  rather  cold ;  but  potatoes  and  the  more  common  vegeta 
bles  grow  to  perfection.  In  many  parts  the  maple-tree  predominates, 
and  a  fine  sugar  is  produced  in  considerable  quantities.  The  principal 
timbers  are  pine  and  a  dwarfish  oak.  The  only  Alpine  region  of 
Minesota  is  that  which  lies  upon  Lake  Superior,  and  the  beautiful 
mountains  which  here  kiss  the  blue  of  heaven  are  invariably  covered 
with  a  miscellaneous  forest ;  and,  if  half  the  stories  we  have  heard  are 
true,  they  must  abound  in  the  valuable  minerals  of  copper  and  silver. 

Those  of  our  readers  who  may  desire  further  information  in  regard 
to  the  Territory  of  Minesota  would  do  well  to  consult  the  following 
authorities,  viz.,  Gen.  Pike,  who  traveled  through  the  region  in  1806 ; 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  93 

Henry  R.  Schoolcraft's  Travels,  both  in  1820  and  1882;  Major  Long, 
who  visited  Leech  Lake  in  1823 ;  and  M.  Nicolet,  whose  map  of  the 
region  is  exceedingly  valuable ;  an  occasional  item  of  information  may 
also  be  obtained  from  a  little  work  entitled  "  A  Summer  in  the  Wil 
derness,"  published  in  1846, 


94  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


A    VIRGINIA    BARBECUE. 

THE  word  barbecue  is  said  to  be  derived  from  a  combination  of  two 
French  words,  signifying  from  the  head  to  the  tail,  or  rather,  "  accord 
ing  to  the  moderns,"  the  whole  figure,  or  the  whole  hog.  By  some,  this 
species  of  entertainment  is  thought  to  have  originated  in  the  West 
India  Islands.  However  this  may  be,  it  is  quite  certain  that  it  was 
first  introduced  into  this  country  by  the  early  settlers  of  Virginia;  and 
though  well  known  throughout  all  the  Southern  States,  it  is  commonly 
looked  upon  as  a  "pleasant  invention"  of  the  Old  Dominion.  The 
idea  was  evidently  conceived  by  a  rural  population,  and  in  a  district 
where  villages  and  the  ordinary  public  buildings  of  the  present  time 
were  few  and  far  between.  For  purposes  of  business  or  pleasure,  the 
people  found  it  necessary,  or  advisable,  to  meet  together  in  masses,  at 
stated  periods ;  and  as  these  meetings  were  made  a  kind  of  rural  festi 
val,  and  as  the  animals  served  up  on  such  occasions  were  commonly 
roasted  entire,  it  was  not  unnatural  that  the  feast  should  eventually 
have  become  known  as  a  barbecue. 

Of  the  genus  barbecue,  as  it  exists  at  the  present  time,  we  believe 
there  are  only  two  varieties  known  to  the  people  of  Virginia,  and  these 
may  be  denominated  as  social  and  political.  The  social  barbecue  is 
sometimes  given  at  the  expense  of  a  single  individual,  but  more  com 
monly  by  a  party  of  gentleman,  who  desire  to  gratify  their  friends 
and  neighbors  by  a  social  entertainment.  At  times,  the  ceremony  of 
issuing  written  invitations  is  attended  to ;  but,  generally  speaking,  it  is 
understood  that  all  the  yeomanry  of  the  immediate  neighborhood, 
with  their  wives  and  children,  will  be  heartily  welcomed,  and  a  spirit 
of  perfect  equality  invariably  prevails.  The  spot  ordinarily  selected 
for  the  meeting  is  an  oaken  grove  in  some  pleasant  vale,  and  the  first 
movement  is  to  dispatch  to  the  selected  place  a  crowd  of  faithful  ne 
groes,  for  the  purpose  of  making  all  the  necessary  arrangements.  If 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  95 

the  barbecue  is  given  at  the  expense  of  half  a  dozen  gentlemen,  you 
may  safely  calculate  that  at  least  thirty  servants  will  be  employed  in 
bringing  together  the  good  things.  Those  belonging  to  one  of  the  en 
tertainers  will  probably  make  their  appearance  on  the  ground  with  a 
wagon  load  of  fine  young  pigs :  others  will  bring  two  or  three  lambs, 
others  some  fine  old  whisky  and  a  supply  of  wine,  others  the  neces 
sary  table-cloths,  plates,  knives,  and  forks,  others  an  •  abundance  of 
bread,  and  others  will  make  their  appearance  in  the  capacity  of  mu 
sicians.  When  the  necessaries  are  thus  collected,  the  servants  all  join 
hands  and  proceed  with  their  important  duties.  They  first  dig  a  pit, 
four  feet  wide,  two  or  three  deep,  and  as  long  as  they  require,  into 
which  they  throw  a  quantity  of  wood,  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
therefrom  a  bed  of  burning  coals.  This  done,  the  more  expert  kitchen 
negroes  proceed  to  roast  (by  laying  them  upon  sticks  across  the  fires) 
the  various  animals  prepared  for  the  occasion.  In  the  mean  time,  all 
the  other  arrangements  are  progressing,  such  as  spreading  the  white 
cloths  upon  the  temporary  board  tables,  and  clearing  a  place  for 
dancing.  The  guests  begin  to  assemble  about  ten  o'clock,  and  by  noon 
there  is  hardly  a  tree  within  hailing  distance  of  the  centre  of  attraction 
to  which  a  horse  is  not  fastened.  The  assembly  is  quite  large ;  and 
white  dresses  and  scarlet  shawls  are  as  numerous  as  the  summer  flowers 
upon  the  neighboring  hills.  Old  men  are  here  with  their  wives  and 
daughters,  in  whose  veins  floweth  the  best  of  aristocratic  blood ;  young 
husbands  with  their  wives;  unmarried  gentlemen  with  a  bevy  of 
laughing  girls  under  their  charge;  and  children  of  every  age,  from 
the  wild  and  boisterous  boy  to  little  girls  just  old  enough  to  totter  after 
a  butterfly.  One,  or  perhaps  two  hours,  are  then  spent  by  the  multi 
tude  in  playing  rural  games,  in  social  converse,  in  telling  stories,  or  in 
discussing  the  news  of  the  day.  Finally,  the  pigs  and  lambs  have  all 
been  roasted,  and  the  feast  is  ready ;  whereupon  there  followeth  as 
busy  and  satisfactory  a  scene  as  can  well  be  imagined.  After  it  is 
ended,  the  negroes  come  into  rightful  possession  of  all  the  tables  and 
the  abundance  of  good  things  left  over;  and,  having  quietly  invited  a 
number  of  their  friends,  with  their  families,  they  proceed  to  enjoy 
their  portion  of  the  entertainment,  which  is  generally  concluded  by  a 
regular  negro  frolic,  with  banjo  and  fiddle,  in  a  neighboring  grove. 


96  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

In  due  time,  after  the  more  substantial  feature  of  the  barbecue  has 
been  enjoyed,  the  musicians  are  summoned  to  their  allotted  places,  and 
the  entire  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  proceed  to  trip  the  light  fan 
tastic  toe.  The  exercise  continues  for  whole  hours,  and  white-haired 
men  and  little  girls  are  seen  wending  their  way  through  the  intricate 
mazes  of  the  country  dance  and  the  Virginia  reel.  As  the  sun  nears 
the  horizon,  the  more  advanced  members  of  the  party  quietly  take  their 
departure,  leaving  a  cloud  of  dust  behind  them  on  the  road.  By  the 
time  the  last  day-flower  has  closed  its  petal,  the  young  men  and  maidens 
have  entire  possession  of  the  barbecue  ground ;  and  having  wound  up 
the  last  reel  by  the  light  of  the  newly  risen  moon,  they  dismiss  the 
musicians,  gather  together  their  hats  and  shawls,  and  with  many  a  song 
and  jest  return  to  their  several  homes. 

With  regard  to  the  political  barbecue,  we  have  to  remark  that  it 
differs  from  the  one  already  described  only  in  the  following  particulars : 
It  is  generally  gotten  up  by  the  leaders  of  one  of  the  political  parties, 
and  speeches  take  the  place  of  dancing,  although  ladies  in  consider 
able  numbers  are  invariably  in  attendance.  Previous  to  the  appointed 
day  for  the  political  barbecue,  a  placard  is  nailed  to  all  the  barn  doors 
and  blacksmith  shops  in  the  district  or  county  where  it  occurs,  to  the 
effect  that  "  several  distinguished  speakers  will  be  present  on  the  occa 
sion/'  and  that  the  people  of  all  parties  are  invited  to  be  present.  If 
the  entertainers  on  this  occasion  are  of  the  Whig  party,  the  first 
speech,  as  a  matter  of  course,  is  delivered  by  a  Whig  orator,  and  it  is 
no  uncommon  sight  to  see  this  gentleman  standing  literally  on  the  stump. 
After  he  has  taken  his  seat,  he  is  usually  followed  by  a  brother  orator 
of  the  Democratic  party ;  and  so,  alternately,  are  the  principles  of  the 
prevailing  parties  fully  discussed.  Generally  speaking,  the  greatest 
decorum  exists,  not  only  among  the  speakers  but  among  the  listeners ; 
and  if  severe  remarks  are  dropped  in  the  heat  of  debate,  they  are 
not  commonly  considered  of  sufficient  consequence  to  create  a  breach 
between  personal  friends.  There  are  times,  however,  when  even  the 
political  barbecue  is  concluded  by  a  dance ;  but  as  the  crowd  is  then 
particularly  miscellaneous,  the  hilarity  which  usually  prevails  is  apt  to 
be  a  little  too  boisterous.  When  given  in  the  autumn,  new  cider  usually 
takes  the  place  of  more  stimulating  drinks  (so  far  as  the  multitude 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  97 

are  concerned,  at  any  rate),  and  when  this  is  the  case,  it  is  very  seldom 
that  any  improprieties  occur.  But,  generally  speaking,  a  genuine  Vir 
ginia  barbecue,  whether  of  a  political  or  social  character,  is  a  rural  en 
tertainment  which  deserves  far  more  praise  than  censure,  and  we  know 
of  none  which  affords  the  stranger  a  better  opportunitiy  of  studying 
the  character  of  the  yeomanry  of  the  Southern  States. 


98  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


DEATH    IN    THE    WILDERNESS. 

MIDWAY  between  the  St.  Louis  River  and  Sandy  Lake,  in  the  Ter 
ritory  of  Minesota,  is  to  Ibe  found  one  of  the  largest  and  most  for 
bidding  of  tamarack  swamps.  From  time  immemorial  it  has  been  a 
thing  of  dread,  not  only  to  the  Indians,  but  also  to  the  traders  and 
voyagers,  for  directly  across  its  centre  runs  the  portage  train  leading 
from  the  waters  of  Lake  Superior  to  those  of  the  Upper  Mississippi. 
For  a  goodly  portion  of  the  year  it  is  blocked  up  with  snow,  and  during 
the  summer  is  usually  so  far  covered  with  water  as  only  occasionally 
to  afford  a  little  island  of  coarse  vegetation.  It  is  so  desolate  a  place 
as  to  be  uninhabited  even  by  wild  animals,  and  hence  the  pleasures  of 
traveling  over  it  are  far  from  being  manifold.  In  fact,  the  only  way 
in  which  it  can  be  overcome  during  the  vernal  months  is  by  employing 
a  rude  causeway  of  logs  for  the  more  dangerous  places ;  and  as  it  hap 
pens  to  be  directly  on  the  route  of  a  portage  over  which  canoes  and 
packs  of  furs  are  annually  transported  to  a  considerable  extent,  we 
cannot  wonder  that  it  should  frequently  be  the  scene  of  mishaps 
and  accidents.  Evidences  to  prove  this,  we  distinctly  remember  to 
have  seen,  when  once  crossing  the  swamp,  for  all  along  the  trail  were 
the  skeletons  of  canoes,  which  had  been  abandoned  by  their  owners, 
together  with  broken  paddles  and  remnants  of  camp  furniture.  But 
the  most  interesting  object  that  we  witnessed  in  this  remote  corner  of 
the  wilderness  was  a  rude  wooden  cross,  surmounting  a  solitary  grave. 
And  connected  with  this  grave  is  the  following  story,  obtained  from 
one  who  assisted  at  the  burial. 

It  was  a  summer  day,  and  many  years  ago,  when  a  stranger  made 
his  appearance  at  the  Sault  St.  Marie.  He  reported  himself  as  com 
ing  from  Montreal  and  anxious  to  obtain  a  canoe  passage  to  the  head 
waters  of  the  Mississippi.  He  was  a  Frenchman,  of  elegant  address, 
and  in  easy  circumstances,  so  far  as  one  could  judge  from  his  stock  of 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  99 

traveling  comforts.  His  name  and  business,  however,  were  alike  un 
known,  and  hence  a  mystery  attended  his  every  word  and  movement. 
Having  purchased  a  new  canoe  and  a  comfortable  tent,  he  secured  the 
services  of  four  stalwart  Chippeways  and  started  upon  his  western  pil 
grimage.  He  sailed  along  the  southern  shore  of  Lake  Superior,  and 
as  its  unique  features  developed  themselves  to  his  view  one  after  ano 
ther,  he  frequently  manifested  the  gratification  he  experienced  in  the 
most  enthusiastic  manner,  thereby  increasing  the  mystery  which  sur 
rounded  him.  Wholly  unacquainted  with  the  language  spoken  by  his 
companions,  he  could  only  converse  with  them  by  signs ;  but  though 
they  could  not  relate  to  him  the  traditions  associated  with  the  sand 
stone  cliffs,  mountains,  and  beautiful  islands  which  they  witnessed, 
they  did  everything  in  their  power  to  make  him  comfortable.  They 
entered  his  tent  and  built  his  watch-fire  at  night,  supplied  him  with 
game  and  fish,  and  during  the  long  pleasant  days,  when  skimming- 
over  the  blue  waters,  entertained  him  with  their  romantic  but  uncouth 
songs.  In  due  time,  they  reached  the  superb  and  most  picturesque  St. 
Louis  River,  surmounted  by  means  of  many  portages  its  waterfalls,  en 
tered  and  ascended  one  of  its  tributaries,  and  finally  drew  up  their 
canoe  at  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  portage  leading  over  the  tama 
rack  swamp. 

The  spot  where  the  voyagers  landed  was  distinguished  for  its  beauty, 
and  as  they  arrived  there  in  the  afternoon,  they  concluded  that  a  bet 
ter  place  could  not  be  found  to  spend  the  night.  The  tent  of  the 
stranger  was  therefore  erected,  and  while  the  Indians  busied  them 
selves  in  preparing  the  evening  meal,  the  former  amused  himself  by 
exploring  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  encampment.  He  wandered 
into  a  neighboring  swamp  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  a  few  roots  of 
the  sweet  flag  of  which  he  was  particularly  fond,  and  on  his  return  to 
the  tent  ate  an  unreasonable  quantity  of  what  he  had  collected.  On 
that  night  he  was  taken  sick,  and  while  endeavoring  to  account  for 
heart-burning  and  severe  pains  that  he  experienced,  he  pulled  out  of 
his  pocket  a  specimen  of  the  root  he  had  eaten  and  handed  it  to  the 
Indians.  They  were  surprised  at  this  movement,  but  on  examining 
the  root  they  found  it  to  be  a  deadly  poison,  whereupon  they  managed 
to  inform  the  stranger  that  he  had  made  a  great  mistake,  and  would 


100  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

probably  lose  his  life.  This  intelligence  was  of  course  received  with 
amazement  and  horror,  and  the  unhappy  man  spent  a  most  agonizing 
night.  At  daybreak  he  was  a  little  better,  and  insisted  upon  immedi 
ately  continuing  his  journey.  The  voyagers  obeyed,  and  packing  up 
their  plunder,  started  across  the  portage  in  single  file.  The  excite 
ment  which  filled  the  mind  of  the  stranger  seemed  to  give  new  energy 
to  his  sinews,  and  he  traveled  for  about  an  hour  with  great  rapidity ; 
but  by  the  time  he  reached  the  centre  of  the  tamarack  swamp  his 
strength  failed  him,  and  he  was  compelled  to  call  a  halt.  Upon  one 
of  the  green  islands,  already  mentioned  the  Indians  erected  his  tent, 
and,  with  all  the  blankets  and  robes  belonging  to  the  company,  made 
him  as  comfortable  as  possible.  The  hours  of  the  day  were  nearly 
numbered;  the  stranger  had  endured  the  severest  agony,  and  he  knew 
that  he  was  about  to  die  !  He  divested  himself  of  his  clothes,  and 
with  all  his  papers  and  other  personal  property,  motioned  that  they 
should  be  placed  in  a  heap  a  few  paces  from  the  door  of  his  tent. 
His  request  was  obeyed.  He  then  handed  them  all  the  money  he 
had,  and  dispatched  all  his  attendants  upon  imaginary  errands  into  the 
neighboring  woods,  and  when  they  returned  they  found  the  heap  of 
clothes  and  other  property  changed  into  heaps  of  ashes.  They  supposed 
the  sick  man  had  lost  his  reason,  and  therefore  did  not  deem  his  con 
duct  inexplicable.  They  only  increased  their  kind  attentions,  for  they 
felt  that  the  stream  of  life  was  almost  dry.  Again  did  the  stranger  sum 
mon  the  Indians  to  his  side,  and  pulling  from  his  breast  a  small  silver 
crucifix,  motioned  to  them  that  they  should  plant  upon  his  grave  a 
similar  memento ;  and  hiding  it  again  in  the  folds  of  his  shirt,  cast  a 
lingering  and  agonizing  look  upon  the  setting  sun,  and  in  this  manner 
breathed  his  last. 

By  the  light  of  the  moon  did  the  Indians  dig  a  grave  on  the  spot 
where  the  stranger  died,  into  which  they  deposited  his  remains,  with 
the  crucifix  upon  his  breast.  At  the  head  of  the  grave,  they  planted 
a  rude  cross  made  of  the  knotty  tamarack  wood,  and  after  a  night  of 
troubled  repose,  started  upon  their  return  to  the  Sault  St.  Marie, 
where  they  finally  recounted  the  catastrophe  of  their  pilgrimage.  And 
such  is  the  story  that  we  heard  of  the  lonely  cross  on  the  northern 
wilderness  surmounting  the  remains  of  the  nameless  exile. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  101 


ROCK    FISHING. 

Of  recreations,  there  is  none 
So  fine  as  fishing  is  alone  j 
All  other  pastimes  do  no  less 
Than  mind  and  body  both  possess: 
My  hands  alone  my  work  can  do, 
So  I  can  fish  and  study  too. 

ISAAK  WALTOX. 

THE   STRIPED   BASSE,    OR  ROOK-FISH. 

WE  consider  the  rock-fish,  striped  basse,  one  of  the  finest  game 
fish  to  be  found  in  American  waters.  From  all  that  we  can  learn, 
it  is  peculiar  to  this  country,  and  to  particular  sections,  not  being  found 
farther  north  than  Maine,  nor  farther  south  than  the  Carolinas,  where 
it  is  known  as  the  Rock-Fish.  It  varies  in  weight  from  six  ounces  to 
one  hundred  pounds ;  and  though  a  native  of  the  ocean,  it  spends  a 
portion  of  every  year  in  the  fresh  water  rivers — yet  it  seems  to  be  par 
tial  to  the  mouths  of  our  larger  estuaries.  Our  naturalists  have  pro 
nounced  it  a  member  of  the  perch  family,  and  doubtless  with  scientific 
propriety;  but  we  have  seen  a  basse  that  would  outweigh  at  least  four 
score  of  the  largest  perch  found  in  the  country.  The  rock  is  a  thick 
set  and  solid  fish,  having  a  strong  bony  mouth,  and  sharp  teeth.  In 
color,  it  varies  from  a  deep  green  on  the  back  to  a  rich  silvery  hue  on 
the  belly,  and  its  scales  are  large  and  of  a  metallic  lustre.  But  the 
distinguishing  feature  of  this  fish  consists  in  the  striped  appearance  of 
its  body.  Running  from  the  head  nearly  to  the  tail,  there  are  no  less 
than  eight  regularly  marked  lines,  which  in  the  healthy  fish  are  of  a 
deep  black.  Its  eyes  are  white,  head  rather  long,  and  the  under  jaw 
protrudes  beyond  the  upper  one,  somewhat  after  the  manner  of  the 
pike.  The  strength  of  the  basse  is  equal  to  that  of  the  salmon,  but 
in  activity  it  is  undoubtedly  inferior.  As  an  article  of  food,  it  is 

9* 


1-02  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

highly  valued,  and  in  all  the  Atlantic  cities  invariably  commands  a 
good  price. 

The  spawning  time  of  this  fish  we  have  not  positively  ascertained, 
though  we  believe  it  to  be  in  the  spring  or  early  summer.  The  New 
York  markets  are  supplied  with  them  throughout  the  year,  but  it  is 
unquestionably  true  that  they  are  in  their  prime  in  the  autumn.  The 
smaller  individuals  frequent  the  eddies  of  our  rivers,  while  those  of  a 
larger  growth  seem  to  have  a  fancy  for  the  reefs  along  the  coast.  On 
the  approach  of  winter,  they  do  not  strike  for  the  deep  water,  but  find 
a  residence  in  the  bays  and  still  arms  of  the  sea,  where  they  remain 
until  the  following  spring.  They  begin  to  take  the  hook  in  April,  and, 
generally  speaking,  afford  the  angler  any  quantity  of  sport  until  the 
middle  of  November.  For  the  smaller  fish  at  the  North,  the  shrimp 
and  minnow  are  the  most  successful  baits ;  and  for  the  larger  indivi 
duals  nothing  can  be  better  than  the  skin  of  an  eel,  neatly  fastened 
upon  a  squid.  The  river  fisherman  requires  a  regular  fit  out  of 
salmon  tackle,  while  he  who  would  capture  the  monsters  of  the  ocean 
only  needs  a  couple  of  stout  Kirby  hooks,  a  small  sinker,  a  very  long 
and  heavy  line,  a  gaff  hook,  and  a  surf  boat.  But  those  who  capture 
the  basse  for  lucrative  purposes  resort  to  the  following  more  effectual 
methods — first  by  using  set  lines,  and  secondly  by  the  employment  of 
gill-nets  and  the  seine.  The  sport  of  taking  a  twenty-pound  basse  in 
a  convenient  river  is  allied  to  that  of  capturing  a  salmon,  but  as  the 
former  is  not  a  very  skittish  fish,  the  difficulties  are  not  so  great.  As 
before  intimated,  all  our  Atlantic  rivers,  from  the  Penobscot  to  the 
Savannah,  are  regularly  visited  by  the  basse ;  but  we  are  inclined  to 
believe  that  they  are  found  in  the  greatest  abundance  and  perfection 
along  the  shores  of  Connecticut,  Rhode  Island,  Massachusetts,  and 
Maine.  At  any  rate,  our  own  experience  has  been  confined  to  this  re 
gion  ;  and  though  we  remember  with  unfeigned  pleasure  our  success  in 
taking  the  larger  varieties  along  the  shores  of  Martha's  Vineyard,  at 
Montauk  Point,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  Watch  Hill,  yet  we  are  dis 
posed  to  yield  the  palm  to  Block  Island.  This  out-of-the-way  spot  of 
the  green  earth  belongs  to  Rhode  Island,  comprises  a  whole  county  of 
that  State,  and  lies  about  forty  miles  from  the  main  shore.  It  is  nine 
miles  in  length,  and  varies  in  width  from  three  to  four  miles.  It  is 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  103 

quite  hilly,  with  an  occasional  rocky  shore,  contains  a  number  of  salt 
water  ponds,  and  is  covered  with  a  scanty  growth  of  trees  and  other 
vegetation.  The  male  inhabitants,  numbering  only  a  few  hundred 
souls,  are  devoted  exclusively  to  the  fishing  business,  and  they  are  as 
amiable  and  honest  at  heart,  as  they  are  rude  and  isolated  in  their 
manner  of  life.  Block  Island  sailors  frequently  find  their  way  to  the 
remotest  quarters  of  the  globe,  though  few  who  were  born  upon  the 
island  ever  become  entirely  weaned  from  its  ocean-girt  shores.  The 
Block  Island  fishermen  build  their  own  smacks,  and  as  these  are 
about  the  only  things  they  do  manufacture,  they  have  acquired  re 
markable  skill  in  building  swift  vessels,  which  are  also  distinguished 
for  their  strength  and  safety. 

The  pleasantest  time  to  kill  basse  at  Block  Island  is  in  the  month 
of  October,  and  immediately  after  a  severe  blow,  for  then  it  is  that  the 
larger  fish  seek  a  sheltering  place  between  the  reefs  and  the  shore. 
And  if  the  angler  would  be  certain  of  success,  he  ought  to  be  upon 
the  water  before  sunrise,  or  at  the  break  of  day.  He  must  have  only 
one  companion,  a  stalwart  Block  Islander,  whose  duty  it  shall  be  to 
steady  the  boat,  as  she  dashes  along  upon  the  restless  bosom  of  the 
ground  swell,  so  that,  with  his  legs  carefully  braced,  he  can  throw 
his  squid  to  a  great  distance,  instead  of  being  thrown  himself  into  the 
sea.  And  if  an  occasional  shark  should  stray  into  the  vicinity  of  his 
boat,  he  must  not  suffer  himself  to  be  alarmed,  for  a  single  discharge 
from  the  fisherman's  pistol  (which  he  usually  carries  for  that  pur 
pose)  will  be  sure  to  frighten  the  monster  out  of  his  way.  Gulls 
without  number,  large  and  small,  of  a  dark  gray  and  a  pure  white, 
will  be  sure  to  fly  screaming  above  his  head,  and  their  wild  chorus  will 
mingle  well  with  the  monotonous  war  of  the  waves  as  they  sweep  upon 
the  shore.  The  fatigue  attendant  upon  this  mode  of  fishing  is  un 
commonly  great ;  and  if  the  angler  should  happen  to  strike  a  forty- 
pounder,  he  will  be  perfectly  satisfied  with  that  single  prize ;  but  if 
his  luck  should  lie  among  the  smaller  varieties,  he  ought  to  be  content 
with  about  half  a  dozen  specimens,  weighing  from  ten  to  fifteen 
pounds,  which  would  probably  be  the  result  of  the  morning's  expedi 
tion.  On  returning  to  the  shore,  the  angler  will  find  himself  in  a 
most  impatient  mood  for  breakfast ;  but  with  a  view  of  enhancing  the 


104  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

anticipated  enjoyment,  he  should  first  throw  aside  his  clothes  and  make 
a  number  of  plunges  in  the  pure  white  surf,  which  will  cause  him  to 
feel  as  strong  and  supple  as  a  leopard. 

We  did  think  of  commenting  upon  Block  Island  as  a  most  fitting 
place  to  study  the  mighty  ocean,  for  the  waves  which  wash  its  shores 
come  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe.  It  so  happens,  however, 
that  we  have  just  been  reading  a  passage  in  an  admirable  little  vo 
lume  entitled  "  The  Old  Greek  Letters"  (the  author  is  a  man  after 
our  own  heart),  which  was  written  at  Block  Island,  and  we  are  sure 
the  passage  in  question  would  u  take  the  wind  out  of  any  sail "  that  our 
pen  might  produce.  The  passage  alluded  to  is  as  follows  : — 

"  Men  speak  of  our  t  mother  the  earth/  But  I  never  could  appre 
ciate  the  metaphor.  A  hard  mother  is  old  Terra.  She  refuses  us 
food,  save  when  compelled  by  hard  struggling  with  her,  and  then 
yields  it  reluctantly.  She  deceives  us  too  often,  and  finally  takes  us, 
when  worn  and  weary,  only  by  the  difficult  digging  of  a  grave. 

"  But  the  ocean  is  mother-like,  singing  songs  to  us  continually,  and 
telling  a  thousand  legends  to  our  baby  ears.  She  casts  up  toys  to  us 
on  every  shore,  bright  shells  and  pebbles.  (What  else  do  we  live  for  ?) 
True,  maniac  as  she  is,  she  sometimes  raves  madly  and  hurls  her  chil 
dren  from  her  arms,  but  see  how  instantly  she  clasps  them  again  close, 
close  to  her  heaving  bosom,  and  how  camly  and  quietly  they  sleep 
there — as  she  sings  to  them — nor  wake  again  to  sorrow." 

As  to  basse  fishing  in  the  vicinity  of  New  York,  where  scientific 
anglers  are  quite  abundant,  it  affords  us  pleasure  to  give  our  readers 
the  following  account,  written  at  our  request  by  G-.  C.  Scott,  Esq., 
who  is  quite  distinguished  for  his  love  and  practical  knowledge  of  the 
gentle  art. 

"  The  weather  and  the  tide  are  in  our  favor,  and  the  moon  all  right, 
for  this  planet,  you  must  know,  always  gives  the  basse  an  excellent 
appetite  and  great  activity.  Speaking  of  its  influence  upon  the  appe 
tite  of  fish,  reminds  me  that  those  in  the  waters  near  the  ocean  bite 
best  in  the  new  of  the  moon ;  whilst  salt  water  fish  which  are  up  the 
creeks  and  near  to  fresh  water,  are  killed  in  the  greatest  number  dur 
ing  high  tides,  and  immediately  after  a  hard  '  nor'easter/  when  the 
wind  has  shifted  to  the  north-west.  You  may  prove  these  facts  with- 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  105 

out  eoino;  half  a  dozen  miles  from  old  Gotham,  and  I  have  always  no- 

O  O  '  */ 

ticed  that  it  is  better  fishing  in  '  the  Kills'  and  at  the  hedges  of  New 
ark  Bay,  as  well  as  at  those  in  the  lower  part  of  the  Bay  of  New 
York;  when  the  tide  is  high ;  while  the  fishing  at  King's  Bridge  and 
the  mouth  of  Spiting  Devil  is  always  best  at  extreme  low  tides. 

"  As  we  are  out  after  basse,  suppose  we  '  make  a  day  of  it/  and  first 
try  the  bridge  at  Haerlem  Dam.  Being  an  angler  yourself,  you  know  of 
course  that  much  depends  upon  bait,  and  we  will  want  to  use  the  best. 
As  it  is  the  month  of  August,  we  will  purchase  a  few  shedder  crabs  in 
the  market ;  and  if  we  find  shrimp  necessary,  we  can  procure  enough 
of  them  at  either  of  the  fishing-grounds.  During  the  spring,  I  use 
shad  roes  for  basse  bait ;  but  in  summer,  and  until  the  first  of  Octo 
ber,  I  prefer  shedder  crabs ;  after  that,  I  use  shrimp  and  soft-shell 
clams.  Some  anglers  prefer  shrimp  at  all  seasons,  as  it  is  well  known 
that  small  basse  are  more  generally  taken  with  them;  but  for  my 
part,  give  me  shedder  crabs  enough,  and  I  will  agree  to  forego  the  use 
of  all  other  kinds  of  bait  for  basse.  Next,  you  may  want  to  know 
how  to  rig  your  tackle?  Where  we  are  going  to-day,  you  want  nothing 
but  a  good  basse  rod,  reel  and  float,  with  a  single  gut  leader,  to  which 
you  fasten  a  hook  and  attach  it  to  the  line  one-third  of  its  length  from 
the  hook.  Use  your  float  only  when  the  tide  runs  slowly,  for  bottom 
fishing  is  the  best  for  large  fish,  unless  you  troll  for  them,  when  you 
use  a  squid  and  fish  in  the  Bronx  with  a  regular  trolling  tackle,  of 
sufficient  strength  to  land  a  fish  weighing  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds,  for  they  are  sometimes  caught  there  of  that  weight,  but  gene 
rally  from  thirty  to  eighty  pounds. 

"  Well,  having  arrived  at  King's  Bridge,  and  as  it  is  about  ebb  tide, 
we  will  first  see  what  we  can  kill  from  the  east  bridge.  I  like  bridge 
fishing,  for  it  is  so  fine  to  pay  out  line  from;  and  then  in  striking  a 
fish  thirty  yards  off,  there  is  so  much  sport  in  playing  him,  and  your 
being  such  a  distance  above  the  water,  you  generally  fasten  him  at 
the  first  bite.  Keel  off !  reel  off !  you  have  struck  him  !  There !  give 
him  play,  but  feel  his  weight  and  let  him  contend  for  every  inch  of 
line  that  you  give  him,  or  he  will  take  the  whole  of  it  without  ex 
hausting  himself,  and  you  will  lose  him.  Keep  him  in  slack  water, 
and  after  playing  him  until  you  kill  him,  land  him  on  the  shore,  for 


106  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

he  is  too  heavy  to  risk  your  tackle  in  raising  him  to  the  bridge.  And 
now,  having  fished  out  the  last  of  the  ebb,  and  the  turn  until  the  tide 
runs  too  fast  to  use  a  float;  just  step  into  this  punt  and  we  will  anchor 
out  near  the  edge  of  the  current,  by  the  first  island  below  the  mill,  and 
fish  in  the  current  without  the  float,  until  the  tide  turns,  when  we 
will  make  for  the  mouth  of  the  Spiting  Devil,  and  fish  fifty  rods  below 
it  in  the  Hudson. 

"  Now,  my  friend,  this  day's  sport  may  be  considered  a  fair  criterion 
for  these  grounds.  We  have  taken  between  twenty  and  thirty  basse, 
but  there  is  only  one  that  weighs  over  five  pounds,  and  their  average 
weight  will  not  vary  much  from  half  that.  To-night  we  will  troll  in 
the  Bronx,  for  if  the  sky  be  clear,  the  basse  will  bite  sooner  at  a 
squid  <  by  the  light  of  the  moon'  than  in  the  day  time ;  and  there  is 
very  little  use  in  stopping  to  try  McComb's  Dam,  as  the  sport  will  not 
be  first-rate  there  until  the  Croton  Aqueduct  is  finished  and  the  coffer 
dam  is  torn  away,  so  that  the  fish  may  have  a  clear  run  and  unob 
structed  passage  between  the  East  and  Hudson  rivers.  It  is  supposed 
that  this  will  be  effected  next  year,  when  McComb's  Dam  will  retrieve 
its  lost  honors  and  furnish  one  of  the  best  places  for  sport  in  this 
vicinity,  to  those  who  prefer  bridge  fishing. 

"  Having  given  you  a  taste  of  the  sport  on  the  waters  bounding  this 
island  on  the  north  and  east,  let  us  to-day  fasten  our  punt  to  the  lower 
hedges  of  New  York  bay,  and  try  the  difference  between  t  bottom 
fishing/  and  that  '  with  the  float/  I  will  remark,  in  passing,  that  it  is 
better  to  anchor  your  punt  about  a  rod  above  the  hedge  and  fish 
towards  the  hedge  without  a  float,  than  to  fasten  your  boat  to  the 
hedge,  as  commonly  practiced,  and  fish  with  a  float ;  for  you  will  notice 
that  while  you,  in  the  old  way,  are  continually  reeling  up  and  making 
casts,  I  am  feeling  for  them  with  a  moving  bait  toward  the  bottom, 
and  as  near  the  hedge  as  I  can  venture  without  getting  fast.  And 
then  when  I  strike,  I  am  sure  to  fasten  them  as  they  turn  from  me  for 
the  shelter  of  the  hedge.  I  can  also  better  play  my  bait  without 
the  danger  of  too  much  slack.  You  will  see  also  that  I  kill  the  largest 
fish. 

"Let  us  now  up  anchor  and  away  for  the  Kills  and  to  the  reef  oppo 
site  Port  Richmond.  Here  the  fish  are  about  as  large  as  those  at  the 


RECORDS  OP  A  TOURIST.  107 

hedges  we  just  left.  The  tide  is  nearly  full,  and  we  will  fish  without 
the  float  until  it  is  about  to  turn,  when  we  will  move  over  to  the  Jer 
sey  shore  about  fifty  rods  below  the  mouth  of  Newark  Bay.  Here,  as 
the  tide  is  just  in  the  turn,  we  can  fish  an  hour  of  the  ebb  with  floats, 
when  it  will  be  best  to  try  bottom-fishing  again.  "Well,  if  you  are 
tired  of  killing  younglings  varying  from  one  to  three  pounds,  let  us  put 
the  punt  about  and  prepare  for  a  beautiful  row  up  to  the  third,  fourth, 
and  fifth  hedges  in  Newark  Bay — trying  each  one — and  we  may 
strike  some  fish  that  will  try  our  tackle.  Change  your  leader  for  a 
heavier  one  and  let  go  the  anchor,  for  we  are  three  rods  above  the 
hedge.  The  water  is  quite  slack,  and  we  will  try  the  float  until  the 
tide  ebbs  a  little  more  and  the  current  becomes  more  rapid.  There, 
sir,  what  think  you  of  that  ?  He  feels  heavy — see  him  spin  !  take 
care  of  your  line  or  he'll  get  foul,  as  I  cannot  govern  him,  and  it  will 
be  with  great  difficulty  that  I  keep  him  out  of  the  hedge.  What  a 
splendid  leap  !  I'll  see  if  I  can  turn  him — here  he  comes- — take  the 
landing  net — there !  there,  we  have  him,  and  I  will  bet  the  champagne 
that  he  weighs  nearer  twenty  pounds  than  ten  ! 

"  Thus,  my  friend,  having  shown  you  the  principal  grounds  and  in 
formed  you  of  the  bait  and  tackle  to  be  used  in  killing  basse  in  this 
vicinity,  I  hope  that  you  will  not  be  at  loss  for  piscatorial  sport  when 
trying  your  skill  in  the  waters  of  old  Gotham." 

It  is  now  time  that  we  should  say  something  about  basse  or  rock 
fishing  in  the  South.  The  only  streams  frequented  by  this  fish,  of  which 
we  have  any  personal  knowledge,  are  the  Potomac,  and  Roanoke, 
though  we  have  heard  many  wonderful  stories  related  of  the  James 
River  and  the  Great  Pedee.  In  speaking  of  the  Potomac  we  are  sorely 
tempted  to  indite  an  episode  upon  the  beautiful  and  magnificent  sweeps 
which  this  river  makes  after  it  leaves  the  gorge  of  Harper's  Ferry  until 
it  loses  itself  in  Chesapeake  Bay,  and  also  upon  its  historical  associa 
tions,  among  which  the  genius  of  Washington  reigns  supreme — but 
it  is  our  duty  to  forbear,  for  we  should  occupy  too  much  time. 

Unquestionably,  the  finest  rock-ground  on  the  Potomac  is  the  place 
known  as  the  Little  Falls,  about  four  miles  above  Georgetown.  At 
this  point  the  river  is  only  fifty  yards  wide,  and  as  the  water  descends 
not  more  than  about  ten  feet  in  running  three  hundred  yards,  the 


108  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

place  might  be  more  appropriately  termed  a  scliute  than  a  fall.  The 
banks  on  either  side  are  quite  abrupt  and  picturesque ;  the  bed  of  the 
stream  is  of  solid  rock,  and  below  the  rapids  are  a  number  of  inviting 
pools,  where  the  water  varies  from  forty  to  sixty  feet  in  depth.  The 
tides  of  the  ocean  reach  no  further  up  the  Potomac  than  this  spot,  and 
though  the  rock-fish  are  caught  in  considerable  numbers  at  the  Great 
Falls  (which  are  ten  miles  further  up  the  river,  and  exceedingly 
romantic),  yet  they  seem  to  be  partial  to  the  Little  Falls,  where  they 
are  frequently  found  in  very  great  numbers.  They  follow  the  shad  and 
the  herring  in  the  spring,  but  afford  an  abundance  of  sport  from  the 
1st  of  May  until  the  4th  of  July,  though  they  are  caught  in  certain 
portions  of  the  Potomac  through  the  year,  but  never  above  the  Great 
Falls.  The  rock  of  this  portion  of  the  Potomac  vary  in  weight  from 
two  to  eighteen  or  twenty  pounds,  and  it  is  recorded  of  the  anglers  and 
business  fishermen  that  they  frequently  kill  no  less  than  five  hundred 
fish  in  a  single  day.  The  favorite  bait  in  this  region  is  the  belly  part 
of  the  common  herring,  as  well  as  the  shiner  and  smelt ;  but  it  is  fre 
quently  the  case  that  a  common  yellow  flannel  fly  will  commit  sad 
havoc  among  the  striped  beauties.  A  stout  rod,  a  large  reel,  and  a 
long  line  are  important  requisites  to  the  better  enjoyment  of  rock -fish 
ing  at  this  point ;  but  as  the  good  standing  places  are  few  in  number, 
many  anglers  resort  to  boat-fishing,  which  is  here  practiced  with  plea 
sure  and  profit.  Of  the  many  scientific  anglers  who  visit  the  Little 
Falls  during  the  spring  and  summer,  the  more  expert  ones  come  from 
Washington ;  and  of  one  of  these  the  story  is  related  that  he  once  kill 
ed  no  less  than  eighty  handsome  rock-fish  in  a  single  afternoon.  He 
occupied  a  dangerous  position  upon  two  pointed  rocks  in  the  river  (one 
foot  upon  each  rock  and  elevated  some  five  feet  above  the  water),  and 
fished  in  a  pool  that  was  some  seventy  feet  down  the  stream,  while  the 
fish  were  landed  by  an  expert  servant  stationed  on  the  shore  about 
thirty  feet  below  the  spot  occupied  by  the  angler.  The  gentleman 
alluded  to  is  acknowledged  to  be  the  most  successful  angler  in  this 
region,  and  in  an  occasional  conversation  with  him,  we  have  obtained 
a  goodly  number  of  piscatorial  anecdotes.  One  or  two  of  them  are  as 
follows : — 

On  one  occasion;  while  playing  a  good-sized  rock-fish,  it  unfortu- 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  109 

nately  ran  around  a  sharp  rock,  and  by  cutting  the  line  made  its 
escape,  carrying  off  the  angler's  float,  and  a  favorite  fly.  On  the 
third  day  after  this  event  a  boy  who  was  playing  on  the  river  about 
half  a  mile  below  the  Falls,  happened  to  see  a  cork  darting  hither  and 
thither  across  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  immediately  went  in  pur 
suit  of  the  life-like  piece  of  wood.  After  many  twistings  and  turnings 
and  a  long  row,  he  finally  overtook  it,  and  to  his  utter  astonishment 
he  landed  in  his  boat  a  very  handsome  five  pound  Basse.  He  recog 
nized  the  fly  as  the  one  commonly  employed  by  our  angler,  to  whom 
the  fly,  the  float  and  the  fish  were  promptly  delivered  by  the  honest  boy. 

Another  and  a  similar  incident  was  as  follows  : 

Our  angling  friend  had  lost  another  float,  by  the  obstinacy  of 
another  fish.  About  a  week  after  the  mishap  a  fisherman  who  had 
a  "  trot  line"  set  across  the  river  at  Georgetown,  for  the  purpose  of 
taking  cat-fish,  discovered  a  great  splashing  in  the  water  near  the  mid 
dle  of  his  line,  and  on  hastening  to  the  spot  he  had  the  pleasure  of  pull 
ing  up  a  very  handsome  twelve  pound  Basse.  After  faring  sumptu 
ously  upon  the  fish,  the  fortunate  individual  took  it  into  his  head  that 
the  tackle  belonged  to  the  angler  of  the  Falls,  whereupon  he  delivered 
it  to  our  friend,  accompanied  with  a  statement  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  made  the  discovery.  The  distance  traveled  by  that  fish,  with  a 
hook  in  his  mouth,  was  four  miles,  and  it  was  by  the  merest  accident 
that  his  leading  string  had  become  entangled  with  the  "  trot  line." 

The  angling  ground  at  the  Little  Falls  is  annually  rented  by  the 
proprietors  to  a  couple  of  men  named  Joe  Paine  and  Jim  Collins,  who 
are  the  presiding  geniuses  of  the  place,  and  have  been  such  for  upwards 
of  twenty  years.  They  pay  a  rent  of  seventy  dollars  per  annum,  and 
as  they  receive  from  fifty  cents  to  five  dollars  from  every  angler  who 
visits  them,  and  as  they  are  occasionally  troubled  with  as  many  as 
thirty  individuals  per  day,  it  may  readily  be  imagined  that  their  income 
is  quite  respectable.  Some  of  Collins'  friends  allege  that  he  has  several 
thousand  dollars  stowed  away  in  an  old  pocket  book,  which  it  is  his 
intention  to  bequeath  to  a  favorite  nephew,  he  himself  being  a  bachelor. 
The  reputation  of  Jim  Collins  in  this  section  of  country  is  very  exten 
sive,  and  that  this  should  be  the  case  is  not  at  all  strange,  for  he  is 
a  decided  original.  He  is  about  fifty  years  of  age,  measures  six  feet 
10 


110  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

five  inches  in  height,  and  the  oflshoots  from  the  four  prongs  of  his 
body  number  twenty-four  instead  of  twenty  as  in  ordinary  mortals;  I 
mean  by  this,  that  his  fingers  and  toes  number  no  less  than  twenty- 
four.  Notwithstanding  this  bountiful  supply  of  fingers  and  toes,  Jim 
Collins  has  a  great  antipathy  to  useful  labor,  and  is  as  averse  to  walking 
as  any  other  web-footed  animal.  Fishing  and  sleeping  are  his  two 
principal  employments ;  and  that  he  is  a  judge  of  good  whisky,  none 
of  his  acquaintance  would  have  the  hardihood  to  doubt.  The  taking  of 
email  fish  he  considers  a  business  beneath  his  dignity,  and  the  conse 
quence  is  that  his  tackle  consists  of  a  miniature  bed  cord,  with  a  hook  and 
cedar  pole  to  match,  and  his  bait  a  whole  herring.  He  commonly  fishes 
in  a  boat,  and  the  dexterity  with  which  he  "JSJawattups"  the  fish  upon  his 
lap  is  truly  astonishing.  But  if  you  would  see  Jim  Collins  in  his 
glory,  wait  until  about  the  middle  of  a  June  afternoon,  after  he  has 
pocketed  some  fifteen  dollars,  and  he  is  sunning  himself,  with  pipe  in 
mouth,  upon  the  rocks,  absorbed  mfisJiy  contemplations.  His  appear 
ance  at  such  times  is  allied  to  that  of  a  mammoth  crane,  watching  (as 
he  does  his  cockney  brethren  of  the  craft)  the  movements  of  a  lot  of 
half-fledged  water  birds. 

During  the  fishing  season  he  is  generally  actively  employed,  but  the 
remainder  of  his  time  he  spends  about  the  Little  Falls,  as  if  his 
presence  were  indispensable  to  the  safe  passage  of  the  waters  of  the 
Potomac  through  this  narrow  gorge.  That  Jim  Collins  should  have 
met  with  many  queer  mishaps,  during  a  residence  of  twenty  years  on 
the  Potomac,  may  be  readily  imagined;  but  we  believe,  the  most  unique 
adventure  of  which  he  has  ever  been  the  victim,  happened  on  this  wise. 
The  substance  of  the  story  is  as  follows  : — 

Our  hero  is  a  great  lover  of  "  sturgeon  meat,"  and  for  many  years 
past  it  has  been  a  habit  with  him  to  fish  for  that  huge  leather  mouth 
ed  monster  with  a  large  cord  and  sharp  graffling  hooks,  sinking  them 
to  the  bottom  with  a  heavy  weight  and  then  dragging  them  across  the 
bed  of  the  stream;  his  sense  of  touch  being  so  exquisite,  that  he  can 
always  tell  the  instant  that  his  hooks  have  struck  the  body  of  a  stur 
geon,  and  when  this  occurs  it  is  almost  certain  that  the  fish  becomes  a 
victim  to  the  cruel  art.  In  practising  this  mode  of  fishing,  Jim  Collins 
invariably  occupies  a  boat  alone,  which  he  first  anchors  in  the  stream. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  Ill 

On  one  occasion  lie  had  been  fishing  in  this  manner  for  a  long  timo 
without  success,  and  for  the  want  of  something  more  exciting,  he  had 
resorted  more  frequently  than  usual  to  his  junk  bottle.  In  process  of 
time,  however,  he  found  the  exercise  of  fishing  decidedly  a  bore,  but 
as  he  was  determined  not  to  give  up  the  sport  and  at  the  same  time 
was  determined  to  enjoy  a  quiet  nap,  he  tied  the  cord  to  his  right  arm, 
and  lounged  over  on  his  back  for  the  purpose  of  taking  a  snooze. 
There  was  an  unusual  calmness  in  the  air  and  upon  the  neighboring 
hills,  and  even  the  few  anglers  who  were  throwing  the  fly  at  the  Falls, 
did  so  in  the  laziest  manner  imaginable.  While  matters  were  in  this 
condition,  a  sudden  splash  broke  the  surrounding  stillness,  which  was 
immediately  followed  by  a  deafening  shout,  for  it  was  discovered  that 
a  sturgeon  had  pulled  poor  Collins  out  of  his  boat  into  the  swift  stream  ? 
and  was  in  great  danger  of  leading  him  off  to  the  residence  of  David 
Jones.  At  one  moment  the  fisherman  seemed  to  have  the  upper  hand, 
for  he  pulled  upon  his  rope,  and  swore  loudly,  sprawling  about  the 
water  like  a  huge  devil  fish;  but  in  another  instant  the  poor  fellow 
would  suddenly  disappear,  and  an  occasional  bubble  rising  to  the  sur 
face  of  the  stream,  was  all  the  evidence  that  the  fellow  was  not  quite 
drowned.  This  contest  lasted  for  some  fifteen  m mutes,  and  had  not  the 
sturgeon  finally  made  his  escape,  Jim  Collins  would  have  been  no 
more.  As  it  happened,  however,  he  finally  reached  the  shore,  about 
two  hundred  yards  below  the  Falls,  and  as  he  sat  upon  a  rock,  quite 
as  near  the  river  Styx  as  he  was  to  the  Potomac,  he  lavished  some 
heavy  curses  upon  the  escaped  sturgeon,  and  insisted  upon  it,  that  the 
best  hooks  that  man  ever  made  were  now  forever  lost.  Years  have 
elapsed  since  this  occurrence  took  place,  and  when  the  ancient  Fisher 
man  "hath  his  will,"  he  recounts  the  story  of  this  catastrophe  with, 
as  brilliant  a  fire  in  his  eye  as  that  which  distinguished  the  counte 
nance  of  Coleridge's  particular  friend,  the  "Ancient  Mariner/' 

Before  closing  this  essay,  it  is  "right  and  proper"  that  we  should 
allude  to  the  beautiful  scenery  that  the  angler  will  enjoy  in  going  to 
and  returning  from  the  Little  Falls.  The  entire  region,  in  fact, 
known  by  the  name  of  Cooney,  and  comprehending  some  fifteen  miles 
of  the  Potomac,  is  particularly  picturesque,  but  is  at  the  same  time 
said  to  be  the  most  barren  and  useless  portion  of  Virginia.  In  visit- 


112  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

ing  the  Falls  you  have  to  pass  over  a  kind  of  wooded  and  rocky  inter 
val,  and  by  an  exceedingly  rough  road,  which  is  annually  submerged 
by  the  spring  freshets.  The  water  here  sometimes  rises  to  the  height 
of  fifty  feet,  and  often  makes  a  terrible  display  of  its  power ;  on  one 
occasion  the  water  came  down  the  valley  with  such  impetuosity  that  a 
certain  wall  composed  of  rocks  six  or  eight  feet  square,  and  united 
together  with  iron,  was  removed  to  a  distance  of  many  rods  from  its 
original  position.  To  the  stranger  who  may  visit  the  Little  Falls,  we 
would  say  forget  not  on  your  return  to  Washington,  the  superb  pros 
pect  which  may  be  seen  from  the  Signal  Tree  on  the  Heights  of  George 
town.  From  that  point  the  eye  comprehends  at  one  glance,  the  church 
spires  and  elegant  residences  of  Georgetown,  the  Metropolis  of  the  land, 
with  its  capitol  and  numerous  public  buildings,  and  the  more  remote 
city  of  Alexandria,  with  a  reach  of  the  magnificent  Potomac,  extend 
ing  a  distance  of  at  least  thirty  miles.  The  better  time  to  look  upon 
this  prospect,  is  at  the  sunset  hour,  when  the  only  sounds  that  fill  the 
air  are  the  shrieking  of  the  swallows,  and  the  faintly  heard  song  of  a 
lazy  sailor  far  away  upon  the  river,  where  perhaps  a  score  or  two  of 
vessels  are  lying  becalmed,  while  on  the  placid  stream  a  retinue  of 
crimson  clouds  are  clearly  and  beautifully  reflected.  Scenes  of  more 
perfect  loveliness  are  seldom  found  in  any  land. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  113 


RATTLESNAKES. 

WE  believe  that  we  have  seen  a  greater  number  of  these  reptiles,  in 
our  various  journeyings,  and  been  more  intensely  frightened  by  them 
than  any  other  scenery-loving  tourist  or  angler  in  the  country,  and 
hence  the  idea  of  our  present  essay.  We  shall  record  our  stock  of 
information  for  the  benefit  of  the  general  reader,  rather  than  for  the 
learned  and  scientific,  beginning  our  remarks  with  what  we  know  of 
the  character  of  that  really  beautiful  and  magnanimous,  but  most 
deadly  animal,  which  was  adopted  as  the  Revolutionary  emblem  of 
our  country,  as  the  eagle  is  now  the  emblem  of  the  Republic. 

The  rattlesnake  derives  its  name  from  an  instrument  attached  to  its 
tail,  consisting  of  a  series  of  hollow  scaly  pieces  which,  when  shaken, 
make  a  rattling  or  rustling  noise.  The  number  of  these  pieces  or 
rattles  are  said  to  correspond  with  the  number  of  years  which  the 
animal  has  attained,  and  some  travelers  assert  that  they  have  been 
discovered  with  thirty  rattles,  though  thirteen  is  a  much  more  com 
mon  number.  It  is  one  of  the  most  venomous  of  serpents,  and  yet 
one  that  we  cannot  but  respect,  since  it  habitually  makes  the  most 
honorable  use  of  the  singular  appendage  with  which  it  is  gifted.  It 
never  strikes  a  foe  without  first  warning  him  of  his  danger.  In  form 
it  is  somewhat  corpulent,  has  a  flat  heart-shaped  head,  and  is  supplied 
with  fangs,  varying  from  a  half-inch  to  an  inch  in  length,  which  lie 
hidden  horizontally  in  the  flesh  of  the  upper  jaw,  and  are  capable  of 
being  thrown  out  like  the  blade  of  a  knife.  The  venom  emitted  by  it 
is  so  deadly  that  it  has  been  known  to  cause  the  death  of  a  human  be 
ing  in  a  very  few  hours,  and  to  destroy  a  dog  or  cat  in  less  than 
twenty  minutes,  and  yet  we  have  met  with  some  half-dozen  indivi 
duals  in  our  travels  who  have  been  bitten  by  the  rattlesnake  without 
being  seriously  injured.  Horses  and  cattle  are  known  to  become  ex 
ceedingly  terrified  at  its  appearance,  and  generally  speaking,  when 

10* 


114  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

bitten,  die  in  a  short  time,  and  yet  we  once  saw  a  horse,  which  was 
only  troubled  in  consequence  of  its  bite,  by  a  disease  resembling  the 
scurvy.  The  hair  dropped  from  the  skin  of  the  quadruped,  and  he 
looked  horribly  if  he  did  not  feel  so.  As  to  the  effect  of  this  poison 
upon  hogs,  it  has  frequently  been  proven  to  be  perfectly  harmless, 
and  we  know  it  to  be  the  custom  in  certain  portions  of  the  country 
for  farmers  to  employ  their  swine  for  the  express  purpose  of  destroy 
ing  the  rattlesnakes  infesting  their  land.  The  effect  of  the  rattle 
snake's  bite  upon  itself  is  said  to  be  generally  fatal.  In  regard  to  the 
antidote  of  this  poison  we  are  acquainted  with  only  one,  which  is  the 
plant  commonly  called  the  rattlesnake  weed.  Both  the  leaf  and  the 
root  are  employed,  and  applied  internally  as  well  as  externally.  This 
plant  grows  to  the  height  of  six  or  eight  inches,  has  one  stock  and  a 
leaf  resembling  in  shape  the  head  of  the  rattlesnake,  and  is  almost  in 
variably  found  in  those  sections  of  the  country  where  the  reptile 
abounds. 

The  courage  of  the  rattlesnake  is  by  no  means  remarkable,  and  it 
is  but  seldom  that  they  will  dispute  the  right  of  way  with  a  man  who 
is  not  afraid  of  them.  They  are  sluggish  in  their  movements,  and  ac 
complish  the  most  of  their  traveling  during  the  nocturnal  hours. 
They  feed  upon  almost  every  variety  of  living  creatures  which  they 
can  overpower.  They  are  not  partial  to  water,  but  when  compelled  to 
cross  a  river  or  lake,  they  perform  the  feat  in  a  most  beautiful  manner, 
holding  their  heads  about  one  foot  from  the  surface,  and  gliding  along 
at  a  rapid  rate.  They  are  affectionate  creatures,  and  it  is  alleged  that 
when  their  offspring  are  very  young,  and  they  are  disturbed  by  the 
presence  of  man,  the  mothers  swallow  their  little  ones  until  the 
danger  is  past,  and  then  disgorge  them  alive  and  writhing. 

Another  of  their  peculiarities  consists  in  the  fact,  that  they  may  be 
entirely  disarmed  by  brandishing  over  their  heads  the  leaves  of  the 
white  ash,  which  are  so  obnoxious  to  their  nervous  system  as  to  pro 
duce  the  most  painful  contortions  of  the  body.  When  traveling  at 
night  in  search  of  food,  or  for  purposes  of  recreation,  as  it  may  be, 
they  have  a  fashion  of  visiting  the  encampments  of  hunters,  and  it 
has  been  ascertained  that  the  only  way  of  keeping  them  at  a  respect 
able  distance  is  to  encircle  the  camp  with  a  rope,  over  which  they  are 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  115 

afraid  to  crawl; — and  it  has  frequently  happened  to  hunters,  in  a 
snake  country,  that  on  awaking  after  a  night  of  repose,  they  have  dis 
covered  on  the  outside  of  their  magic  circle  as  many  as  a  dozen  of  the 
charming  creatures,  carefully  coiled  up  and  sound  asleep.  It  is  also 
related  of  this  snake  that  it  has  the  power  of  throwing  off  or  suppress 
ing  a  disagreeable  effluvium,  which  is  quite  sickening  to  those  who 
come  within  its  range.  If  this  be  true  it  occurs  chiefly  in  the  month 
of  August,  when  the  weather  is  sultry  and  the  snake  is  particularly 
fat.  That  this  snake  has  the  power  of  charming,  as  some  writers 
maintain,  may  be  true,  but  we  know  not  of  an  authenticated  instance. 
That  it  may  have  a  very  quiet  way  of  stealing  upon  its  prey  seems  to 
us  much  more  plausible — but  upon  this  fact  we  are  non-committal. 
As  to  their  power  of  hissing — that  also  is  an  undecided  question.  In 
regard  to  their  manner  of  biting  we  can  speak  with  more  confidence. 
They  never  attack  a  man  without  first  coiling  themselves  in  a  grace 
ful  manner,  and  instead  of  jumping  they  merely  extend  their  bodies, 
with  the  quickness  of  thought,  towards  their  mark,  and  if  they  do  not 
reach  it,  they  have  to  coil  themselves  again  for  a  second  effort,  and 
when  they  hit  a  man  at  all,  it  is  generally  on  his  heel,  for  the  bruis 
ing  of  which  they  have  the  authority  of  the  Scriptures. 

The  rattlesnake  is  peculiar  to  the  American  continent.  Four  va 
rieties  alone  are  known  to  naturalists,  three  of  which  are  found  in  the 
United  States,  and  one  in  South  America.  In  the  States  bordering  on 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico  they  attain  the  length  of  seven  and  eight  feet  and 
a  diameter  of  three  to  four  inches — the  males  having  four  fangs,  and 
the  females  only  two.  These  are  characterized  by  a  kind  of  diamond 
figure  on  the  skin,  and  are  partial  to  the  low  or  bottom  lands  of  the 
country.  Those  found  in  the  Middle  and  Northern  States  are  called 
the  common  or  banded  rattlesnakes,  and  are  altogether  the  most 
abundant  in  the  Union.  They  vary  in  length  from  two  and  a  half  to 
four  feet,  and  are  partial  to  mountainous  and  rocky  districts.  There 
is  also  a  very  small,  but  most  dangerous  variety,  called  the  ground 
rattlesnakes,  which  are  found  on  the  sterile  and  sandy  prairies  of  the 
West,  and  to  a  limited  extent  in  the  barren  districts  of  the  South.  In 
Canada  they  are  almost  unknown,  and  even  in  the  more  thickly  set 
tled  States  of  the  Union  they  are  rapidly  becoming  extinct.  As  to 


116  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

their  value,  it  may  be  stated  that  their  oil  and  gall  are  highly  prized 
in  all  sections  of  the  Union  for  medicinal  purposes,  and  by  the  In 
dians  and  slave  population  of  the  South,  their  flesh  is  frequently  em 
ployed  as  an  article  of  food,  and  really  considered  sweet  and  nou 
rishing. 

The  attachment  of  the  Aborigines  to  this  famous  reptile  is  proverb 
ial  :  among  nearly  all  the  tribes,  even  at  the  present  day,  it  is  seldom 
disturbed,  but  is  designated  by  the  endearing  epithet  of  grandfather. 
It  is  recorded,  however,  by  the  early  historians,  that  when  one  tribe 
desired  to  challenge  another  to  combat,  they  were  in  the  habit  of 
sending  into  the  midst  of  their  enemy  the  skin  of  a  rattlesnake,  where 
by  it  would  appear  to  have  been  employed  as  an  emblem  of  revenge. 
And  as  to  the  origin  of  the  rattlesnake,  the  old  men  among  the  Chero- 
kees  relate  a  legend  to  the  following  eifect,  which,  the  reader  will  notice, 
bears  a  striking  analogy  to  the  history  of  our  Saviour.  A  very  beau 
tiful  young  man,  with  a  white  face  and  wrapped  in  a  white  robe,  once 
made  his  appearance  in  their  nation,  and  commanded  them  to  abandon 
all  their  old  customs  and  festivals,  and  to  adopt  a  new  religion.  He 
made  use  of  the  softest  language,  and  everything  that  he  did  proved 
him  to  be  a  good  man.  It  so  happened,  however,  that  he  could  make 
no  friends  among  them,  and  the  medicine  men  of  the  nation  conspired 
to  take  away  his  life.  In  many  ways  did  they  try  to  do  this — by 
lashing  him  with  serpents  and  by  giving  him  poison,  but  were  always 
unsuccessful.  But  in  process  of  time  the  deed  was  accomplished  and 
in  the  following  manner.  It  was  known  that  the  good  stranger  was 
in  the  habit  of  daily  visiting  a  certain  spring  for  the  purpose  of  quench 
ing  his  thirst,  and  bathing  his  body.  In  view  of  this  fact,  the  magi 
cians  made  a  very  beautiful  war-club,  inlaid  with  bone  and  shells,  and 
decorated  with  rattles,  and  this  club  they  offered  to  the  Great  Spirit, 
with  the  prayer  that  he  would  teach  them  how  to  destroy  the  stranger. 
In  answer  to  the  prayer,  a  venomous  snake  was  created  and  carefully 
hidden  under  a  leaf  by  the  side  of  the  spring.  The  stranger,  as  usual, 
came  there  to  drink,  was  bitten  by  the  snake,  and  perished.  The 
Cherokee  nation  then  fell  in  love  with  the  snake,  and  having  asked 
the  Great  Spirit  to  distinguish  it,  by  some  peculiar  mark,  from  all  the 
other  snakes  in  the  world,  he  complied  by  transferring  to  its  body  the 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  117 

rattles  which  had  made  the  club  of  sacrifice  so  musical  to  the  ear,  and 
so  beautiful  to  the  eye.  And  from  that  rattlesnake  are  descended  all 
the  poisonous  snakes  now  scattered  through  the  world. 

We  commenced  this  article  with  the  determination  of  not  writing  a 
single  paragraph  (for  the  above  legend,  after  a  fashion,  is  historical) 
which  could  be  classed  with  the  unbelievable  things  called  "  Snake 
Stories,"  but  the  following  matter-of-fact,  though  disconnected  anec 
dotes,  may  not  be  unacceptable  to  our  readers. 

We  were  once  upon  a  fishing  expedition  among  the  mountains  of 
North  Carolina,  with  two  other  gentlemen,  when  it  so  happened  that 
we  concluded  to  spend  the  night  in  a  deserted  log  cabin,  belonging  to 
one  of  the  party.  By  the  light  of  a  large  fire,  we  partook  of  a  cold 
but  comfortable  supper,  and  after  talking  ourselves  into  a  drowsy 
mood,  we  huddled  together  on  the  floor,  directly  in  front  of  the  fire 
place,  and  were  soon  in  a  sound  sleep.  About  midnight,  when  the 
fire  was  out,  one  of  the  party  was  awakened  by  a  singular  rattling 
noise,  and  having  roused  his  companions,  it  was  ascertained  beyond  a 
doubt  that  there  were  two  rattlesnakes  within  the  room  where  they 
were  lying.  We  arose,  of  course,  horrified  at  the  idea,  and  as  we  were 
in  total  darkness,  we  were  afraid  even  to  move  for  fear  of  being  bitten. 
We  soon  managed,  however,  to  strike  a  light,  and  when  we  did  so,  we 
found  one  of  our  visitors  on  the  hearth,  and  one  in  the  remotest  corner 
of  the  room.  We  killed  them,  as  a  matter  of  course,  with  a  most 
hearty  relish,  and  in  the  morning  another  of  the  same  race,  just  with 
out  the  threshold  of  the  cabin.  The  reptiles  had  probably  left  the 
cabin  just  before  our  arrival,  and  on  returning  at  midnight,  had  ex 
pressed  their  displeasure  at  our  intrusion  upon  their  abode,  by  sound 
ing  their  rattles. 

On  another  occasion  we  were  of  a  party  of  anglers  who  killed  a 
rattlesnake  on  one  of  the  mountains  overlooking  Lake  George  (where 
this  reptile  is  very  abundant),  and  after  its  head  had  been  cut  off  and 
buried,  one  of  the  party  affirmed  that  there  was  not  a  person  present 
who  could  take  the  dead  snake  in  his  hand,  hold  it  out  at  arm's  length, 
and  give  it  a  sudden  squeeze,  without  dropping  it  to  the  ground.  A 
wager  was  offered,  and  by  the  most  curious  and  courageous  of  the  party 
was  accepted.  He  took  the  snake  in  his  hand  and  obeyed  the  instruc- 


118  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

tions,  when  the  serpentine  body  suddenly  sprang  as  if  endowed  with 
life,  and  the  headless  trunk  struck  the  person  holding  it,  with  consi 
derable  force  upon  the  arm.  To  add  that  the  snake  fell  to  the  ground 
most  suddenly  is  hardly  necessary.  We  enjoyed  a  laugh  at  the  ex 
pense  of  our  ambitious  friend,  but  the  phenomenon  which  he  made 
known,  remains  to  this  day  entirely  unexplained.  Since  that  time  we 
have  been  led  to  believe  that  there  is  not  one  man  in  a  thousand  who 
would  have  the  fortitude  to  succeed  in  the  experiment  above  men 
tioned, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  119 


A   WESTERN   PIONEER. 

IT  was  about  •  twenty  years  ago,  on  a  bright  November  morning, 
that  a  large  covered  wagon,  drawn  by  four  horsesj  came  to  a  halt  in 
front  of  the  office  of  the  Receiver  of  Money  for  the  Public  Lands 
in  the  village  of  Monroe,  territory  of  Michigan.  The  wagon  in 
question  contained  implements  of  husbandry,  a  plentiful  stock  of 
provisions,  and  all  the  household  furniture  of  a  family  consisting  of 
an  old  man  and  his  wife,  three  sons,  and  two  daughters;  and  their 
outside  possessions  were  comprised  in  a  small  but  miscellaneous  herd 
of  cows,  oxen,  sheep,  and  hogs.  The  head  of  this  family  was  a  New 
York  farmer  in  indigent  circumstances,  who  had  conceived  the  idea 
of  making  himself  a  home  in  what  was  then  the  wilderness  of  Michi 
gan.  All  the  money  he  had  in  the  world  was  one  hundred  dollars, 
and  with  this  he  purchased  at  the  land-office  a  tract  of  eighty  acres 
of  uncultivated  land,  which  he  had  never  seen,  but  upon  which  he 
was  about  to  locate  with  his  family.  The  honest  and  independent 
deportment  of  this  emigrant  enlisted  the  feelings  of  the  lleceiver,  and 
he  accordingly  extended  an  invitation  to  him  and  his  party  to  spend 
the  night  under  his  roof.  The  invitation  was  accepted,  and  after  a 
"lucid  interval"  of  comfortable  repose,  and  cheered  by  a  warm 
breakfast,  the  emigrating  party  respectfully  took  their  leave  of  their 
entertainer,  and  started  upon  their  dreary  pilgrimage. 

The  distance  they  had  to  travel  was  some  hundred  and  eighty 
miles.  As  the  roads  were  new  and  rough,  they  plodded  along,  day 
after  day,  at  a  slow  rate,  and  with  much  difficulty;  took  their  meals 
in  the  open  air,  and  spent  their  nights  under  a  tent,  with  only  a  few 
heavy  quilts  to  protect  them  from  the  dampness  of  the  ground. 
While  upon  this  journey  they  were  overtaken  by  cold  weather,  and, 
in  fording  one  of  the  many  streams  which  crossed  their  route,  the 
venerable  emigrant  had  one  of  his  legs  frost-bitten,  which  resulted, 


120  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

after  much  delay  and  trouble  in  sending  for  a  physician,  in  its  am 
putation.  His  life  was  spared;  however,  and  in  due  time,  in  spite  of 
the  calamity  which  had  befallen  them,  the  emigrants  were  encamped 
upon  their  "  land  of  promise." 

Having  thus  reached  the  end  of  their  journey,  the  first  thing  to  be 
done  was  to  erect  a  suitable  dwelling  wherein  to  spend  the  winter ; 
and,  the  father  of  the  family  having  been  rendered  almost  helpless 
by  his  misfortune,  the  labor  of  building  it  devolved  exclusively  upon 
his  sons,  the  youngest  of  whom  was  a  mere  boy.  Animated  by  a 
most  noble  spirit,  they  fell  to  work  without  any  delay,  and  in  the 
course  of  ten  days  had  accomplished  their  first  task,  and  were  the 
masters  of  a  comfortable  log-cabin.  It  stood  on  the  sandy  knoll  of 
an  (<  oak  opening,"  and  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  a  sparkling 
rivulet.  The  only  evidences  of  civilization  which  surrounded  them 
were  the  stumps,  and  chips,  and  decaying  branches  which  covered  the 
site  of  their  labors ;  but  the  emigrants  had  a  home,  and  though  a 
rude  and  apparently  comfortless  one,  they  were  satisfied,  if  not  happy. 

The  winter  days  passed  rapidly  away;  and,  while  the  disabled 
emigrant  did  little  else  than  keep  himself  warm  by  his  huge  wood- 
fire,  his  sons  were  felling  the  trees  on  every  side,  and  doing  their  ut 
most  to  enclose  their  domain.  And  at  night,  when  gathered  at  the 
evening  meal,  or  in  a  circle  around  their  hearth,  and  the  newly-cut 
wood  was  hissing  under  the  influence  of  the  bright  flame,  they  would 
talk  over  the  pleasures  of  other  days,  experienced  in  a  distant  portion 
of  the  land,  and  cherish  the  hope  that  the  future  had  even  more 
happiness  in  store.  Within  their  cabin  was  to  be  found  the  spirit 
of  genuine  religion,  and,  as  the  hopeful  music  of  woman's  voice  was 
there,  and  their  hearts  were  bound  together  by  the  chords  of  a  holy 
family  love,  they  were  indeed  happy. 

It  was  now  the  spring-time  of  the  year,  a  warmer  tint  was  in  the 
sky,  and  all  around  the  wilderness  was  beginning  to  blossom  like  the 
rose.  The  birds  were  building  their  nests,  and  their  sweet  minstrelsy 
was  heard  throughout  the  air ;  and  there,  too,  was  the  tinkling  of 
bells,  for  the  cattle  sought  their  food  in  the  remote  dells,  and  returned 
at  the  sunset  hour,  with  their  udders  teeming  full.  The  brush  and 
waste  wood  of  the  "girdled  clearings"  were  gathered  into  heaps  and 


RECORDS  OP  A  TOURIST.  121 

burnt — in  the  daytime  forming  fantastic  columns  of  smoke,  and  at 
night  making  the  midnight  darkness,  save  where  the  flame  was  par 
ticularly  brilliant,  more  profound.  And  then  the  plough  was  brought 
forth,  and  made  to  try  its  strength  in  turning  up  the  virgin  soil.  Our 
emigrant  friend  has  now  entirely  recovered  from  his  late  disaster, 
and,  having  manufactured  for  himself  an  artificial  leg,  he  begins  to 
think  it  time  for  him  to  lend  a  helping  hand  towards  accelerating  the 
improvements  of  his  "  farm."  The  smell  of  the  ploughed  field  has 
given  him  a  thrill  of  pleasure,  and  he  determines  to  try  what  he  can 
accomplish  in  the  way  of  planting  corn.  This  effort  proves  success 
ful,  and,  as  he  becomes  accustomed  to  the  use  of  his  new  member,  ho 
takes  the  lead  in  most  of  the  farming  operations,  and  thinks  no  more 
of  his  past  sufferings  than  of  the  fact  that  he  is  what  many  people 
are  pleased  to  term  a  poor  man. 

As  industry  and  virtue  are  almost  invariably  followed  by  prosperity, 
we  must  not  wonder  at  the  future  career  of  our  Western  pioneer. 
Five  years  have  passed  away,  and,  as  his  crops  have  been  abundant, 
we  find  him  the  possessor  of  half  a  thousand  acres  of  valuable  land 
instead  of  one  hundred.  He  has  also  gathered  the  means  to  build 
himself  a  new  frame  house ;  and,  as  the  "  harvest  is  past  and  the 
summer  ended/'  his  barns  are  filled  to  overflowing.  On  every  side 
are  spread  out  extensive  fields,  and  his  hired  men  may  be  counted  by 
the  dozen.  They  have  gathered  in  the  crops,  and,  after  a  brief  fur 
lough,  a  portion  of  them  will  take  possession  of  the  barns,  and  de 
vote  themselves  to  the  flail,  while  the  remainder  will  enter  some 
neighboring  woodland  with  their  axes,  and  proceed  in  their  laborious 
work  of  destruction.  Winter  comes,  and  still  the  sounds  of  the  flail 
and  the  axe  are  heard  in  the  barn  and  in  the  forest.  The  coldest  of 
winds  may  blow,  and  the  snow  may  fall  so  as  to  bury  the  fences,  but 
what  matter  ?  The  genius  of  health  reigns  supreme.  All  the  day 
long,  and  at  night,  huge  fires  are  blazing  in  the  dwelling  of  the 
pioneer;  his  larder  is  filled  with  an  abundance  of  the  good  things  of 
life,  and  his  numerous  cattle  are  more  comfortably  housed  than  him 
self  when  first  he  came  into  the  wilderness.  Spring  has  returned 
once  more,  and  a  new  life  has  been  instilled  not  only  into  the  earth, 
but  also  into  the  blood  of  man. 
11 


122  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

It  is  now  the  delightful  season  of  midsummer,  and  we  sec  before 
us,  basking  in  the  sunshine,  a  domain  of  two  thousand  acres  of  land, 
in  the  highest  state  of  cultivation.  Capping  the  summit  of  a  hill 
stands  a  spacious  and  elegant  mansion,  surrounded  with  outhouses, 
and  bespeaking  the  possessor  to  be  a  man  of  opulence  and  taste.  In 
one  direction,  fading  away  to  a  great  distance,  lie  a  succession  of 
fields  waving  with  golden  grain;  in  another,  hill  beyond  hill  of 
the  deep  green  and  graceful  corn ;  in  another  we  see  a  magnificent 
meadow,  with  hundreds  of  cattle  and  horses  and  sheep  quietly 
grazing  or  sporting  in  their  glee ;  and  in  another  direction  an  almost 
impenetrable  forest,  where  the  black-walnut,  the  white-wood,  the 
oak,  and  the  hickory  strive  to  excel  each  other  in  the  respective  at 
tributes  of  beauty  and  might.  And  this  is  the  home  and  the 
domain  of  the  Western  pioneer.  Less  than  a  mile  distant  from  his 
mansion  stands  a  charming  village,  from  which  arises  a  single  spire, 
pointing  to  the  Christian's  home.  The  pastor  of  that  church  is  the 
youngest  son  of  our  friend  the  pioneer.  Within  said  village,  too, 
may  be  seen  an  "  Eagle  Hotel,"  and  a  "  New  York  Store/'  which 
are  both  the  property  of  his  two  elder  sons.  At  their  expense  a 
public  school  has  been  established  within  the  village.  The  country 
around  is  intersected  with  the  best  of  roads,  along  which  the 
heavily-laden  wain  pursues  its  snail-like  course,  and  the  mail  coach 
rattles  along  with  its  panting  horses,  nine  passengers  on  the  in 
side,  and  a  deep  coating  of  dust  on  the  boot  and  everything  out 
side.  Plenty  and  peace  have  taken  possession  of  the  land,  and 
the  pioneer  of  other  days  has  become  the  nabob  of  the  present 
time. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  123 


PIKE    FISHING. 

If  so  be  the  angler  catch  no  fish  yet  hath  he  a  wholesome  walk  to  the  brook- 
side,  and  pleasant  shade  by  the  sweet  silver  streams. 

ROBERT  BURTON. 

THE  Pike  is  a  common  fish  in  all  the  temperate,  and  some  of  the 
northern  regions  of  the  world ;  but  in  no  country  does  he  arrive  at 
greater  perfection  than  in  the  United  States.  For  some  unaccount 
able  reason  he  is  generally  known  in  this  country  as  the  pickerel ;  and 
we  would  therefore  intimate  to  our  readers  that  our  present  Discourse  is 
to  be  of  the  legitimate  pike.  In  England,  he  is  known  under  the 
several  names  of  pike,  jack,  pickerel  and  luce.  His  body  is  elongated 
and  nearly  of  a  uniform  depth  from  the  head  to  the  tail ;  the  head  is 
also  elongated,  and  resembles  that  of  the  duck  ;  his  mouth  is  very  large 
and  abundantly  supplied  with  sharp  teeth,  and  his  scales  are  small  and 
particularly  adhesive ;  the  color  of  his  back  is  a  dark  brown,  sides  a 
mottled  green  or  yellow,  and  belly  a  silvery  white.  The  reputation  of 
this  fish  for  amiability  is  far  from  being  enviable,  for  he  is  called  not 
only  the  shark  of  the  fresh  waters,  but  also  the  tyrant  of  the  liquid 
plain.  He  is  a  cunning  and  savage  creature,  and  for  these  reasons 
even  the  most  humane  of  fishermen  are  seldom  troubled  with  conscien 
tious  scruples  when  they  succeed  in  making  him  a  captive.  Pliny 
and  Sir  Francis  Bacon  both  considered  the  pike  to  be  the  longest 
lived  of  any  fresh  water  fish,  and  Gesner  mentions  a  pike  which  he 
thought  to  be  two  hundred  years  old.  Of  these  ancient  fellows, 
Walton  remarks,  that  they  have  more  in  them  of  state  than  goodness, 
the  middle  sized  individuals  being  considered  the  best  eating.  The 
prominent  peculiarity  of  this  fish  is  his  voraciousness.  Edward  Jesse 
relates  that  five  large  pike  once  devoured  about  eight  hundred  gud 
geons  in  the  course  of  three  weeks.  He  swallows  every  animal  he 
can  subdue,  and  is  so  much  of  a  cannibal  that  he  will  devour  his  own 


124  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

kind  full  as  soon  as  a  common  minnow.  Young  ducks  and  even  kittens 
have  been  found  in  his  stomach,  and  it  is  said  that  he  often  contends 
with  the  otter  for  his  prey.  Gesner  relates  the  story  that  a  pike  once 
attacked  a  mule  while  it  was  drinking  on  the  margin  of  a  pond,  and 
his  teeth  having  become  fastened  in  the  snout  of  the  astonished  beast, 
he  was  safely  landed  on  the  shore.  James  Wilson  once  killed  a  pike 
weighing  seven  pounds,  in  whose  stomach  was  found  another  pike 
weighing  over  a  pound,  and  in  the  mouth  of  the  youthful  fish  was  yet 
discovered  a  respectable  perch.  Even  men,  while  wading  in  a  pond, 
have  been  attacked  by  this  fresh  water  wolf.  He  is  so  much  of  an 
exterminator,  that  when  placed  in  a  small  lake  with  other  fish,  it  is 
not  long  before  he  becomes  "  master  of  all  he  surveys,"  having  de 
populated  his  watery  world  of  every  species  but  his  own.  The  fol 
lowing  story,  illustrating  the  savage  propensity  of  this  fish,  is  related 
by  J.  Y.  C.  Smith.  A  gentleman  was  angling  for  pike,  and  having 
captured  one,  subsequently  met  a  shepherd  and  his  dog,  and  presented 
the  former  with  his  prize.  While  engaged  in  clearing  his  tackle,  the 
dog  seated  himself  unsuspectingly  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the 
pike,  and  as  fate  would  have  it,  his  tail  was  ferociously  snapped  at  by 
the  gasping  fish.  The  dog  was  of  course  much  terrified,  ran  in  every 
direction  to  free  himself,  and  at  last  plunged  into  the  stream.  The 
hair  had  become  so  entangled  in  the  fish's  teeth,  however,  that  it 
could  not  release  its  hold.  The  dog  again  sought  the  land,  and  made  for 
his  master's  cottage,  where  he  was  finally  freed  from  his  unwilling 
persecutor;  but  notwithstanding  the  unnatural  adventure  of  the  fish, 
he  actually  sunk  his  teeth  into  the  stick  which  was  used  to  force  open 
his  jaws. 

The  pike  of  this  country  does  not  differ  essentially  from  the  pike  of 
Europe.  His  food  usually  consists  of  fish  and  frogs,  though  he  is  far 
from  being  particular  in  this  matter.  He  loves  a  still,  shady  water, 
in  river  or  pond,  and  usually  lies  in  the  vicinity  of  flags,  bulrushes 
and  water-lilies,  though  he  often  shoots  out  into  the  clear  stream,  and 
on  such  occasions  frequently  affords  the  rifleman  a  deal  of  sport.  In 
summer  he  is  taken  at  the  top  and  in  the  middle,  but  in  winter  at  the 
bottom.  His  time  for  spawning  is  March,  and  he  is  in  season  about 
eight  months  in  the  year.  In  speaking  of  the  size  of  this  fish,  the 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  125 

anglers  of  Europe  have  recorded  some  marvelous  stories,  of  which  we 
know  nothing,  and  care  less.  In  this  country  they  vary  from  two  to 
four  feet  in  length,  and  in  weight  from  two  to  forty  pounds }  when 
weighing  less  than  two  pounds,  he  is  called  a  jack.  As  an  article  of 
food  he  seems  to  be  in  good  repute ;  but  since  we  once  found  a  large 
water-snake  in  the  stomach  of  a  monster  fish,  we  have  never  touched 
him  when  upon  the  table.  He  suits  not  our  palate,  but  as  an  object 
of  sport  we  esteem  him  highly,  and  can  never  mention  his  name  with 
out  a  thrill  of  pleasure. 

In  this  place  we  desire  to  record  our  opinion  against  the  idea  that 
the  pike  and  maskalunge  are  one  and  the  same  fish.  For  many 
years  we  entertained  the  opinion  that  there  was  no  difference  between 
them,  only  that  the  latter  was  merely  an  overgrown  pike.  We  have 
more  recently  had  many  opportunities  of  comparing  the  two  species 
together,  and  we  know  that  to  the  careful  and  scientific  observer,  there 
is  a  marked  difference.  The  head  of  a  maskalunge  is  the  smallest ; 
he  is  the  stoutest  fish,  is  more  silvery  in  color,  grows  to  a  much  larger 
size,  and  is  with  difficulty  tempted  to  heed  the  lures  of  the  angler. 
They  are  so  precisely  similar  in  their  general  habits,  however,  that 
they  must  be  considered  as  belonging  to  the  pike  family.  They  are  pos 
sibly  the  independent,  eccentric  and  self  satisfied  nabobs  of  the  race  to 
which  they  belong ;  always  managing  to  keep  the  world  ignorant  of 
their  true  character,  until  after  their  days  are  numbered. 

"We  will  now  mention  one  or  two  additional  traits,  which  we  had 
nearly  forgotten.  The  first  is,  that  the  pike  is  as  distinguished  for 
his  abstinence  as  for  his  voracity.  During  the  summer  months,  his 
digestive  organs  seem  to  be  somewhat  torpid,  and  this  is  the  time  that 
he  is  out  of  season.  During  this  period  he  is  particularly  listless  in 
his  movements,  spending  nearly  all  the  sunny  hours  basking  near  the 
surface  of  the  water;  and  as  this  is  the  period  when  the  smaller  fry 
are  usually  commencing  their  active  existence,  we  cannot  but  distin 
guish  in  this  arrangement  of  nature  the  wisdom  of  Providence. 
Another  habit  peculiar  to  this  fish,  is  as  follows : — During  the  autumn, 
he  spends  the  day-time  in  deep  water,  and  the  nights  in  the  shal 
lowest  water  he  can  find  along  the  shores  of  river  or  lake.  We  have 
frequently  seen  them  so  very  near  the  dry  land  as  to  display  their 


126  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

fins.  What  their  object  can  be  in  thus  spending  the  dark  hours,  it  is 
hard  to  determine  :  is  it  to  enjoy  the  warmer  temperature  of  the  shal 
low  water,  or  for  the  purpose  of  watching  and  capturing  any  small 
land  animals  that  may  come  to  the  water  to  satisfy  their  thirst  ?  We 
have  heard  it  alleged  that  they  seek  the  shore  for  the  purpose  of 
spawning,  but  it  is  an  established  fact  that  they  cast  their  spawn  in 
the  spring;  and,  besides,  the  months  during  which  they  seek  the 
shore  as  above  stated,  are  the  very  ones  in  which  they  are  in  the  best 
condition,  and  afford  the  angler  the  finest  sport.  Autumn  is  the  time, 
too,  when  they  are  more  frequently  and  more  easily  taken  with  the 
spear,  than  during  any  other  season.  And  as  to  this  spearing  busi 
ness,  generally  speaking,  we  consider  it  an  abominable  practice,  but 
in  the  case  of  the  savage  and  obstinate  pike,  it  ought  to  be  counte 
nanced  even  by  the  legitimate  angler. 

We  have  angled  for  pike  in  nearly  all  the  waters  of  this  country 
where  they  abound.  The  immense  quantity  of  book  lore  that  we  have 
read  respecting  the  character  of  pike  tackle,  has  always  seemed  to  us 
an  intelligent  species  of  nonsense — a  kind  of  literature  originally 
invented  by  tackle  manufacturers.  Our  own  equipment  for  pike 
fishing  we  consider  first-rate,  and  yet  it  consists  only  of  a  heavy  rod 
and  reel,  a  stout  linen  line,  a  brass  snell,  a  sharp  Kirby  hook,  and  a 
landing  net.  For  bait  we  prefer  a  live  minnow,  though  a  small 
shiner,  or  the  belly  of  a  yellow  perch,  is  nearly  as  sure  to  attract  no 
tice.  We  have  taken  a  pike  with  a  gaudy  fly,  and  also  with  an  artifi 
cial  minnow,  but  you  cannot  depend  upon  these  allurements.  Sinkers 
we  seldom  use,  and  the  fashionable  thing  called  a  float  we  utterly 
abominate.  We  have  fished  for  pike  in  almost  every  manner,  but  our 
favorite  method  has  ever  been  from  an  anchored  boat,  when  our  only 
companion  was  a  personal  friend,  and  a  lover  of  the  written  and  un 
written  poetry  of  nature.  This  is  the  most  quiet  and  contemplative 
method,  and  unquestionably  one  of  the  most  successful  ones;  for 
though  the  pike  is  not  easily  frightened,  it  takes  but  a  single  splash 
of  an  oar  when  trolling,  to  set  him  a-thinking,  which  is  quite  as  un 
fortunate  for  the  angler's  success  as  if  he  were  actually  alarmed.  An 
other  advantage  is,  that  while  swinging  to  an  anchor  you  may  fish  at 
the  bottom,  if  you  please,  or  try  the  stationary  trolling  fashion.  To 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  127 

make  our  meaning  understood,  we  would  add,  that  an  expert  angler 
can  throw  his  hook  in  any  direction  from  his  boat,  to  the  distance  of 
at  least  a  hundred  feet,  and  in  pulling  it  in,  he  secures  all  the  advan 
tages  that  result  from  the  common  mode  of  trolling.  The  pike  is  a 
fish  which  calls  forth  a  deal  of  patience,  and  must  be  humored ;  for 
he  will  sometimes  scorn  the  handsomest  bait,  apparently  out  of  mere 
spite ;  but  the  surest  time  to  take  him  is  when  there  is  a  cloudy  sky 
and  a  southerly  breeze.  Live  fish  are  the  best  bait,  as  we  have 
before  remarked,  though  the  leg  of  a  frog  is  good,  and  in  winter  a 
piece  of  pork,  but  nothing  can  be  better  than  a  shiner  or  a  little  perch ; 
and  it  might  here  be  remarked,  that  as  the  pike  is  an  epicure  in  the 
manner  of  his  eating,  it  is  invariably  a  good  plan  to  let  him  have  his 
own  time,  after  he  has  seized  the  bait.  As  to  torchlight  fishing  for 
pike,  though  unquestionably  out  of  the  pale  of  the  regular  angler's 
sporting,  it  is  attended  with  much,  that  we  must  deem  poetical  and 
interesting.  Who  can  doubt  this  proposition,  when  we  consider  the 
picturesque  effect  of  a  boat  and  lighted  torch,  gliding  along  the  wild 
shores  of  a  lake,  on  a  still,  dark  night,  with  one  figure  noiselessly 
plying  an  oar,  and  the  animated  attitude  of  another  relieved  against 
the  fire-light,  and  looking  into  the  water  like  Orpheus  into  hell.  And 
remember,  too,  the  thousand  inhabitants  of  the  liquid  element  that 
we  see,  and  almost  fancy  to  be  endowed  with  human  sympathies  ? 
What  a  pleasure  to  behold  the  various  finny  tribes  amid  their  own 
chosen  haunts,  leading,  as  Leigh  Hunt  has  exquisitely  written, 

"A  cold,  sweet,  silver  life,  wrapped  in  round  waves, 
Quickened  with  touches  of  transporting  fear!" 

In  some  of  the  Northern  States  fishing  for  pike  with  set  lines 
through  the  ice,  is  practiced  to  a  great  extent.  The  lines  are  com 
monly  attached  to  a  figure  four,  by  which  the  fisherman  is  informed 
that  he  has  a  bite,  and  if  he  has  many  lines  out  and  the  fish  are  in  a 
humor  to  be  captured,  this  mode  of  fishing  is  really  very  exciting. 
Especially  so,  if  the  ice  is  smooth  and  the  fisherman  can  attend  to  his 
hooks  with  a  pair  of  sharp  skates  attached  to  his  feet. 

Another  mode  for  catching  pike  in  the  winter,  and  which  we  have 
seen  practiced  in  the  lakes  and  rivers  of  Michigan,  is  as  follows.  You 


128  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

cut  a  large  hole  in  the  ice,  over  which  you  erect  a  tent  or  small  porta 
ble  house ;  and  after  taking  a  seat  therein,  you  let  down  a  bait  for 
the  purpose  of  alluring  the  fish,  and  as  they  follow  the  hook,  even  to 
your  feet,  you  pick  them  out  with  a  sharp  spear. 

But  it  is  time  that  we  should  change  the  tone  of  our  discourse  and 
mention  the  favorite  waters  of  the  American  pike.  The  largest  we 
have  ever  seen  were  taken  in  the  Upper  Mississippi,  and  on  the  St. 
Joseph  and  Raisin  rivers  of  Michigan,  where  they  are  very  abundant. 
They  are  also  found  in  nearly  all  the  streams  emptying  into  Lakes 
Michigan,  Erie,  and  Ontario; — also,  in  the  Ohio  and  its  tributaries. 
We  have  heard  of  them  in  the  Upper  St.  Lawrence,  and  know  them 
to  abound  in  Lake  Champlain,  and  in  a  large  proportion  of  the  lakes 
and  rivers  of  New  England.  A  very  pretty  lady  once  told  us  that  she 
had  seen  a  pike  taken  from  Lake  Champlain,  which  was  as  long  as  the 
sofa  upon  which  we  were  seated  together,  and  conversing  upon  the  gen 
tle  art  of  fishing,  and  the  tender  one  of  love.  Pike  fishing  with  the 
hook  we  have  not  practiced  to  a  very  great  extent.  Our  angling 
experience  has  been  chiefly  confined  to  the  smaller  lakes  of  Connect 
icut,  particularly  those  in  the  vicinity  of  Norwich.  Our  favorite  resort 
has  been  Gardner's  Lake,  whose  shores  are  surrounded  with  pleasant 
wood-crowned  hills,  teeming  with  partridge  and  wood-cock,  and  the 
Sabbath  stillness  which  usually  reigns  about  it  is  seldom  broken,  save 
by  the  dipping  oar  or  the  laugh  of  the  light-hearted  fisherman.  Dearly 
indeed  do  we  cherish  the  memory  of  the  pleasant  days  spent  upon  this 
picturesque  lake  j  and  we  hope  it  may  never  be  used  for  any  other 
purpose  than  to  mirror  the  glories  of  heaven,  and  never  be  visited  by 
any  but  genuine  sportsmen  and  true-hearted  lovers  of  nature.  Pres 
ton  Lake  is  another  beautiful  sheet  of  water  near  Norwich,  which 
reminds  us  of  a  night  adventure.  A  couple  of  us  had  visited  it  for 
the  purpose  of  taking  pike  by  torch-light,  having  brought  our  spears 
and  dry-pine  all  the  way  from  Norwich  in  a  one-horse  wagon.  It 
was  a  cold  but  still  autumnal  night,  and  as  we  tied  our  horse  to  a  tree 
in  an  open  field,  we  had  every  reason  to  anticipate  a  "glorious  time." 
So  far  as  the  fish  were  concerned  we  enjoyed  fine  sport,  for  we  caught 
about  a  dozen  pike,  varying  from  one  to  four  pounds  in  weight ;  but 
the  miseries  we  subsequently  endured  were  positively  intolerable. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  129 

Not  only  did  we  work  an  everlasting  while  to  make  our  boat  sea 
worthy,  but  in  our  impatience  to  reach  the  fishing  grounds,  we  mis 
placed  our  brandy  bottle  in  the  tall  grass,  and  were  therefore  deprived 
of  its  warming  companionship.  About  midnight  a  heavy  fog  began 
to  arise,  which  not  only  prevented  us  from  distinguishing  a  pike  from 
a  log  of  wood,  but  caused  us  to  become  frequently  entangled  in  the 
top  of  a  dry  tree,  lying  on  the  water.  Our  next  step,  therefore,  was 
to  go  home,  but  then  came  the  trouble  of  finding  our  "  desired  haven." 
This  we  did  happen  to  find,  for  a  wonder,  and  having  gathered  up  our 
plunder  started  on  our  course  over  the  frosty  grass  after  our  vehicle 
and  horse.  We  found  them,  but  it  was  in  a  most  melancholy  plight 
indeed.  Like  a  couple  of  large  fools,  we  had  omitted  to  release  the 
horse  from  the  wagon  as  we  should  have  done,  and  the  consequence 
was  that  he  had  released  himself  by  breaking  the  fills  and  tearing  off 
the  harness,  and  we  discovered  him  quietly  feeding  a  few  paces  from 
the  tree  to  which  we  had  fastened  him.  What  next  to  do,  we  could  not 
in  our  utter  despair  possibly  determine ;  but  after  a  long  consultation 
we  both  concluded  to  mount  the  miserable  horse,  and  with  our  fish 
in  hand  we  actually  started  upon  our  miserable  journey  home.  Our 
fish  were  so  heavy  that  we  were  compelled  at  the  end  of  the  first  mile 
to  throw  them  away,  and  as  the  day  was  breaking  we  entered  the 
silent  streets  of  Norwich,  pondering  upon  the  pleasures  of  pike  fishing 
by  torch-light,  and  solemnly  counting  the  cost  of  our  nocturnal  expe 
dition. 

But  the  most  successful  pike  fishing  we  ever  enjoyed  was  at  Crow 
Wing,  on  the  Upper  Mississippi.  We  were  spending  a  few  days  with 
an  isolated  Indian  trader  of  the  wilderness,  around  whose  cabin  were 
encamped  about  three  hundred  Chippewa  Indians.  Seldom  was  it 
that  we  allowed  a  night  to  pass  away,  without  trying  our  luck  with 
the  spear,  and  as  a  dozen  canoes  were  often  engaged  in  the  same  sport, 
the  bosom  of  the  river  often  presented  a  most  romantic  and  beautiful 
appearance.  Each  canoe  usually  contained  two  or  three  individuals, 
and  our  torches,  which  were  made  of  dried  birch  bark,  threw  such  a 
flood  of  light  upon  the  translucent  water,  that  we  could  see  every 
object  in  the  bed  of  the  river  with  the  utmost  distinctness.  Beautiful 
indeed  were  those  fishing  scenes,  and  when  the  canoes  had  floated 


130  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

down  the  river  for  a  mile  or  two,  the  homeward  bound  races  that  fol 
lowed  between  the  shouting  Indians  were  exciting  in  the  extreme. 
And  what  added  to  our  enjoyment  of  this  sporting  was  the  idea  that 
to  grasp  the  hand  of  a  white  man  (besides  that  of  our  host),  we  should 
have  to  travel  one  hundred  miles  through  a  pathless  wilderness.  We 
seldom  took  any  note  of  time,  and  sometimes  were  throwing  the  spear 
even  when  the  day  was  breaking.  The  largest  fish  that  we  saw  taken 
at  Crow  Wing  weighed  upwards  of  forty  pounds;  and  we  have  known 
five  spearmen  to  take  seventy  pike  and  maskalunge  in  a  single  night. 

But  we  must  curtail  our  pike  stories,  for  we  purpose  to  append  to 
our  remarks  a  few  interesting  observations  upon  that  and  a  kindred 
fish  which  have  been  kindly  furnished  to  us  by  an  accomplished 
scholar,  a  genuine  angler  and  a  valued  friend,  John  R.  Bartlett,  Esq. 

The  pike  bears  the  same  relation  to  the  finny  tribes  that  the  hyena 
and  jackall  do  to  animals,  the  vulture  to  birds,  or  the  spider  to  insects 
— one  of  the  most  voracious  of  fishes.  He  feeds  alike  on  the  living  or 
dead;  and  even  those  of  his  own  brethren  which  are  protected  by 
nature  against  the  attacks  of  other  fish,  find  no  protection  against  him. 
It  is  remarkable  in  the  economy  of  animals,  that  while  nature  provides 
her  weaker  and  smaller  creatures  with  the  means  of  defence  against 
the  stronger  ones,  she  has,  at  the  same  time,  furnished  some  of  the 
latter  with  weapons,  apparently  for  the  very  purpose  of  overcoming 
the  feeble,  however  well  they  may  be  guarded.  Thus,  the  pike,  with 
its  immense  jaws,  armed  with  innumerable  teeth,  is  able  to  seize 
and  crush  every  kind  of  fish.  Its  own  kind  do  not  escape,  for  in 
stances  are  frequent  when  a  pike  of  three  or  four  pounds  is  found  in 
the  stomach  of  one  of  twelve  or  fifteen  pounds  weight. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice  the  habits  of  the  pike,  which  an  angler 
may  easily  do  in  still,  clear  water.  They  have  been  characterized  as 
a  solitary,  melancholy,  and  bold  fish.  Never  are  they  found  in  schools, 
or  even  in  pairs,  as  most  other  fish  are,  nor  are  they  often  seen  in 
open  water,  where  other  fish  would  discover  them  and  avoid  their 
grasp.  When  in  open  water  they  lie  very  near  the  bottom,  quite 
motionless,  appearing  like  a  sunken  stick.  Their  usual  and  favorite 
place  of  resort  is  among  the  tall  weeds  where  they  cannot  be  seen. 
Here  they  lie,  as  it  were,  in  ambush,  waiting  the  approach  of  some  in- 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  131 

nocent,  unsuspecting  fish,  when  they  dart  forth  with  a  swiftness 
which  none  of  the  finny  tribe  can  attain,  seize  their  harmless  victim, 
and  slowly  bear  it  away  to  some  secluded  spot.  Here  they  crush  their 
prey  with  their  immense  jaws,  and  leisurely  force  it  into  their  capacious 
stomachs.  Often,  when  angling  for  the  pike  with  a  live  perch,  from 
a  wharf  so  far  raised  above  the  water  that  I  could  see  every  object  for 
twenty  feet  on  either  side,  a  pike  has  so  suddenly  darted  from  a 
cluster  of  weeds,  beyond  the  range  of  my  vision,  that  the  first  inti 
mation  I  had  of  his  presence  was,  that  he  had  seized  my  bait. 

On  one  occasion,  when  angling  in  the  St.  Lawrence,  where  pike  are 
very  abundant,  I  put  a  minnow  on  my  hook,  and  threw  my  line  to 
wards  a  mass  of  weeds,  in  the  hope  of  tempting  a  perch  to  take  it.  Not 
many  minutes  had  elapsed  before  my  silvery  minnow  had  tempted  the 
appetite  of  one,  which  soon  conveyed  him  to  his  maw.  Knowing  that 
my  game  was  sure,  I  let  him  play  about,  first  allowing  him  to  run  to 
the  extent  of  my  line  and  then  drawing  him  towards  me,  when  on  a 
sudden  a  pike  shot  from  his  hiding  place  and  seized  my  perch.  I  was 
obliged  to  let  the  fellow  have  his  own  way,  and  give  him  all  the  time 
he  wanted  to  swallow  the  perch,  when  with  a  good  deal  of  difficulty,  I 
succeeded  in  disabling  him  and  towed  him  in  triumph  to  the  shore. 
The  perch  weighed  a  pound  and  a  half;  the  pike  ten  pounds. 

The  long  and  slender  form  of  the  pike,  tapering  towards  the  head 
and  tail,  enables  him  to  move  with  great  rapidity  through  the  water, 
while  his  smooth  and  finless  back  facilitates  his  movements  through 
the  weeds  or  marine  plants.  Thus  has  nature  provided  this  fish  with 
a  form  adapted  to  its  habits,  and  with  large  and  well-armed  jaws,  to 
give  it  a  pre-eminence  among  the  finny  tribes  which  inhabit  the  same 
waters.  I  have  often  thought  why  so  great  an  enemy,  so  great  a  de- 
vourer  of  his  race,  should  be  placed  among  them,  favored  by  so  many 
advantages.  May  it  not,  nay,  must  it  not  be  for  some  wise  purpose  ? 
It  is  known  how  very  prolific  fishes  are,  and  unless  some  way  was  pro 
vided  to  lessen  the  number,  our  inland  waters  could  not  contain  the 
vast  numbers  which  a  few  years  would  produce.  Most  fish  live  on 
each  other,  others  on  decomposing  substances  floating  about.  It  is  not 
always  the  largest  that  prey  on  each  other,  for  the  sturgeon  is  one  of 
the  largest  fresh  water  fish,  and  he  subsists  on  decomposing  matter,  or 


132  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

minute  fish.  A  few  pike  placed  in  a  lake,  would  very  effectually  pre 
vent  an  over-population.  May  it  not,  then,  be  so  ordered  that  the 
inhabitants  of  the  seas,  which  are  not  so  favored  as  those  who  dwell  on 
the  earth's  surface,  and  who  have  a  great  variety  of  food  to  supply 
their  wants,  may  have  the  means  of  providing  their  own  sustenance 
by  an  immense  increase  of  their  own  species  ? 

Elaine  observes  that  "  the  abstinence  of  the  pike  and  jack  is  no  less 
singular  than  their  voracity ;  during  the  summer  months  their  digest 
ive  faculties  are  somewhat  torpid,  which  appears  a  remarkable  peculi 
arity  in  pike  economy,  seeing  it  must  be  in  inverse  ratio  to  the  wants 
of  the  fish,  for  they  must  be  at  this  time  in  a  state  of  emaciation 
from  the  effects  of  spawning.  During  the  summer  they  are  listless, 
and  affect  the  surface  of  the  water,  where  in  warm  sunny  weather 
they  seem  to  bask  in  a  sleepy  state  for  hours  together.  It  is  not  a 
little  remarkable,  that  smaller  fish  appear  to  be  aware  when  this  absti 
nent  state  of  their  foe  is  upon  him ;  for  they  who  at  other  times  arc 
evidently  impressed  with  an  instinctive  dread  of  his  presence,  are  now 
swimming  around  him  with  total  unconcern.  At  these  periods,  no 
baits,  however  tempting,  can  allure  him;  but  on  the  contrary,  he  re 
treats  from  everything  of  the  kind.  Windy  weather  is  alone  capable 
of  exciting  his  dormant  powers.  This  inaptitude  to  receive  food  with 
the  usual  keenness,  continues  from  the  time  they  spawn,  until  the 
time  of  their  recovery  from  the  effects  of  it." 

The  peculiarity  above  noticed  does  not  entirely  apply  to  the  pike  of 
the  Northern  States,  and  particularly  of  the  great  lakes  and  rivers, 
whose  waters  are  not  so  sensibly  affected  by  the  heat  of  summer  as 
shallow  water  is.  In  the  smaller  streams  he  lies  in  the  listless  state 
described  by  Mr.  Blaine,  but  when  he  can  reach  the  deep  water  he  al 
ways  does  so. 

Pike  are  found  in  all  the  lakes  and  inland  waters  of  the  Northern 
and  Middle  States  of  the  Union.  In  the  great  lakes  they  grow  to  an 
enormous  size.  No  fish  is  better  known  throughout  Europe  and  the 
northern  parts  of  Asia.  In  colder  climes  he  attains  the  largest  size, 
and  is  said  by  Walkenburg  to  disappear  in  geographical  distribution 
with  the  fir.  In  our  waters  they  are  taken  of  all  sizes,  from  four  or 
five  pounds  to  fifty  or  sixty.  Their  haunts  are  generally  among  the 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  133 

weeds  or  marine  plants  near  the  shore,  or  in  deep  bays  where  the  water 
is  not  made  rough  by  winds,  and  in  all  parts  of  rivers.  They  are 
rarely  found  on  rocky  bottoms  or  bars.  A  high  wind  and  rough  sea 
often  drives  them  from  their  weedy  haunts  into  deeper  water.  I  have 
noticed  this  particularly  on  Lake  Ontario.  From  wharves  where  basse 
are  only  taken  on  ordinary  occasions,  pike  will  bite  with  avidity  when 
a  severe  gale  is  blowing  and  the  water  is  in  a  disturbed  state. 

This  fish,  according  to  Donovan,  attains  a  larger  size  in  a  shorter 
time,  in  proportion  to  most  others.  In  the  course  of  the  first  year 
it  grows  eight  or  ten  inches ;  the  second,  twelve  or  fourteen ;  the  third, 
eighteen  or  twenty  inches.  Some  pike  were  turned  into  a  pond  in 
England,  the  largest  of  which  weighed  two  and  a  half  pounds.  Four 
years  after,  the  water  was  let  off,  when  one  pike  of  nineteen  pounds, 
and  others  of  from  eleven  to  fifteen,  were  found.  Mr.  Jesse,  in  his 
Gleanings  of  Natural  History,  relates  certain  experiments  by  which 
he  shows  that  the  growth  of  pike  is  about  four  pounds  a  year,  which 
corresponds  with  the  growth  of  those  before  stated. 

The  various  books  on  sporting  give  numerous  instances  of  pike 
weighing  from  thirty  to  forty  pounds,  taken  in  England,  though  an 
instance  is  mentioned  in  Dodsley's  Register  for  1765,  of  an  enormous 
pike  weighing  170  pounds,  which  was  taken  from  a  pool  near  New 
port,  England,  which  had  not  been  fished  in  for  ages.  In  Ireland  and 
Scotland,  they  are  found  larger  than  in  England.  In  the  Shannon 
and  Lough  Corrib,  they  have  been  found  from  seventy  to  ninety-two 
pounds  in  weight.  At  Broadford,  near  Limerick,  one  was  taken 
weighing  ninety-six  pounds.  Another  was  caught  by  trolling  in  Loch 
Pentluliche,  of  fifty  pounds ;  and  another  in  Loch  Spey,  that  weighed 
146  pounds.  But  these  are  small  in  comparison  with  a  pike,  which  is 
stated  by  G-esner  (and  from  him  quoted  by  most  writers  on  fish)  to 
have  been  taken  in  a  pool  near  the  capital  of  Sweden,  in  the  year 
1497,  which  was  fifteen  feet  in  length,  and  weighed  350  pounds.  Un 
der  the  skin  of  this  enormous  fish  was  discovered  a  ring  of  cypress 
brass,  having  a  Greek  inscription  round  the  rim,  which  was  inter 
preted  by  Dalburgus,  Bishop  of  Worms,  to  signify:  "I  am  the  fish 
first  of  all  placed  in  this  pond,  by  the  hands  of  Frederic  the  Second, 
on  the  5th  of  October,  in  the  year  of  grace  1230  •"  which  would 
12 


134  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

make  its  age  267  years.  The  ring  about  his  neck  was  made  with 
springs,  so  as  to  enlarge  as  the  fish  grew.  His  skeleton  was  for  a  long 
time  preserved  at  Manheim. 

During  the  past  summer,  which  I  spent  on  the  banks  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  I  had  frequently  tried  the  spool  trolling,  and  always  with 
success  Sometimes  I  would  use  two  lines,  one  70,  the  other  120 
feet  in  length.  On  the  larger  one  I  had  the  best  success,  and  my  bait 
would  be  seized  three  times,  when  on  the  shorter  one  it  would  be  but 
once ;  it  being  farther  from  the  boat,  the  movements  of  which  through 
the  water,  and  the  noise  of  the  oars,  drove  the  fish  off.  From  expe 
rience  I  am  satisfied  that  long  trolling  lines  are  the  best.  Basse  will 
seize  a  fly  or  spoon  at  a  few  feet  distance,  but  a  pike  will  not.  I  have 
tried  the  experiment,  when  trolling  for  pike,  to  attach  to  one  hook  a 
bait  of  pork  and  red  flannel,  a  very  common  bait,  and  to  the  other  a 
brass  spoon.  The  latter  was  invariably  seized  first,  for  the  only  reason, 
I  suppose,  that  it  made  more  show  in  the  water.  Neither  resembled 
a  fish,  fly,  or  any  living  creature,  but  curiosity  or  hunger  attracted  the 
fish  to  the  strange  bait  gliding  through  the  water,  which  they  seized, 
paying  with  their  lives  the  penalty  for  so  doing. 

There  is  a  large  fish  of  the  pike  species  commonly  called  the  Mas- 
kinonge  or  Maskalunge  before  spoken  of,  of  what  specific  character  is 
not  well  understood  by  naturalists.  Their  habits  and  their  haunts  are 
the  same  as  those  of  the  pike,  and  they  attain  a  larger  size  than  any 
fish  of  our  inland  waters.  I  have  seen  them  carried  by  two  men  of 
ordinary  height,  with  a  pole  running  through  the  gills  and  supported 
on  the  shoulders  of  the  men.  In  this  position  the  tail  of  the  fish 
dragged  on  the  ground.  Forty  or  fifty  pounds  is  not  an  unusual 
weight  for  them,  and  instances  are  known  when  much  larger  ones 
have  been  caught.  Maskinonge  are  generally  taken  in  seines,  seldom 
with  the  hook.  Their  size  is  so  large  that  the  ordinary  baits  of  anglers 
would  be  no  temptation  for  them.  In  the  several  opportunities  which 
I  have  had  to  examine  the  stomachs  of  these  fish  I  have  invariably 
found  within  them,  fish  of  very  large  size,  such  as  no  angler  would 
ever  think  of  putting  on  his  line.  The  largest  perch  I  ever  saw,  about 
fifteen  inches  in  length,  was  taken  from  the  paunch  of  a  Maskinonge, 
and  I  have  often  seen  catfish,  perch,  and  other  fish,  weighing  from  one 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  135 

to  two  pounds,  taken  from  them  j  but  in  no  instance  small  fish ;  and 
hence  anglers  have  not  taken  them,  as  few  would  angle  with  live  bait 
of  that  size,  where  there  are  no  fish  but  these  which  would  take  it. 

The  most  exciting  sport  I  ever  had  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  or  any 
where  else,  was  in  taking  a  maskinonge.  It  was  a  regular  battle,  such 
only  as  the  salmon  anglers  enjoy  when  they  hook  a  twenty  pounder. 
As  the  method  was  quite  different,  I  will  send  you  all  the  particulars. 

A  friend  and  myself  took  a  small  skiff,  with  one  trolling  line,  intend 
ing  to  take  turns  at  the  oars,  and  proceeded  at  once  to  a  favorite  spot 
among  the  "  Thousand  Islands/' 

I  held  the  trolling  line  with  a  spoon  hook  attached,  while  my  com 
panion  pulled  the  oars.  We  sailed  among  the  secluded  places,  wher 
ever  weeds  were  seen  below  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  were  rewarded 
with  good  sport  by  taking  several  fine  pike,  weighing  from  six  to 
fifteen  pounds,  which  we  managed  to  secure  with  ease,  save  the  largest, 
which  gave  us  some  trouble.  We  then  thought  we  would  try  deeper 
water,  in  the  hope  of  tempting  larger  fish.  A  few  windings  among 
the  clusters  of  small  islands  brought  us  to  the  channel  of  the  river, 
when  I  directed  my  companion  to  increase  the  speed  of  our  skiff, 
determined  that  the  curiosity  of  no  fish  should  be  satisfied,  without 
first  tasting  my  gilded  spoon.  We  pulled  for  half  a  mile,  when  the 
river  wound  suddenly  round  an  island,  which  presented  a  bold  shore, 
from  the  rushing  of  the  river's  current.  The  tall  forest  trees  extended 
to  the  very  brink  of  the  river,  over  which  they  hung,  throwing  a  deep 
shadow  on  the  water.  This  quiet  spot  looked  as  though  it  might  be 
an  attractive  one  for  some  solitary  fish,  and  we  accordingly  took  a 
sweep  around  the  foot  of  the  island. — Scarcely  had  we  entered  the 
deep  shade  spoken  of,  when  I  felt  a  tug  at  my  line,  which  was  so  strong 
that  I  supposed  my  hook  had  come  in  contact  with  a  floating  log  or 
fallen  tree.  My  companion  backed  water  with  his  oars  to  relieve  my 
hook,  when  another  violent  pull  at  my  line  convinced  me  that  it  was 
no  log,  but  some  living  creature  of  great  weight.  My  line  was  already 
out  its  full  length  of  150  feet;  no  alternative  was  therefore  left  but 
to  give  my  fish  more  line  by  rowing  after  him. 

This  we  did  for  a  few  minutes,  when  I  began  to  pull  in  the  slack  of 
my  line,  some  fifty  feet  or  more,  when  I  felt  my  fish.  The  check 


136  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

was  no  sooner  felt  by  him  than  he  started  forward  with  a  velocity 
scarcely  conceivable  in  the  water,  bringing  my  line  taut,  and  the  next 
moment  our  skiff  was  moving  off  stern  foremost  towards  the  river's 
channel.  We  soon  perceived  that  our  fish  had  turned  his  head  up 
stream,  and  as  the  water  was  deep,  there  was  no  danger  of  his  coming 
in  contact  with  weeds  or  protruding  rocks.  We  therefore  allowed  him 
to  tow  us  for  about  five  minutes,  when  he  stopped.  Then  quickly 
backing  water  with  our  oars,  and  taking  in  our  line,  we  carefully  laid 
it  over  the  skiffs  side,  until  we  had  approached  within  twenty  feet  of 
our  fish.  I  then  gave  him  another  check,  which  probably  turned  his 
head,  for  he  again  darted  off  in  a  contrary  direction  down  stream.  We 
pulled  our  skiff  in  the  same  direction  as  fast  as  possible  to  give  the 
fish  a  good  run  before  checking  him  again,  but  he  soon  had  the  line 
out  its  full  length,  and  was  again  towing  our  skiff  after  him  with  more 
rapidity  than  before.  This  did  not  last  long,  however,  for  I  then  took 
the  line  and  hauled  towards  him  to  lessen  our  distance.  He  made 
another  slap,  when  I  managed  to  keep  my  line  taut,  and  with  our  oars 
moved  towards  him.  Our  victim  now  lay  on  the  surface  of  the  water 
with  his  belly  upward,  apparently  exhausted,  when  we  found  him  to 
be  a  maskinonge,  between  five  and  eight  feet  in  length.  We  had  no 
sooner  got  him  alongside  than  he  gave  a  slap  with  his  tail  and  again 
darted  off  the  whole  length  of  the  line,  taking  us  once  more  in  tow. 
His  run  was  now  short,  and  it  was  evident  he  was  getting  tired  of  the 
business.  Again  the  line  slacked  and  we  drew  the  skiff  up  to  the 
spot  where  he  lay  turned  up  on  his  back. 

He  now  seemed  so  far  gone  that  I  thought  we  might  draw  him  into 
our  skiff,  so  I  reached  out  my  gaff  and  hooked  him  under  the  jaw, 
while  my  companion  passed  his  oar  under  him.  In  this  way  we  con 
trived  to  raise  him  over  the  gunwale  of  the  skiff,  when  he  slid  to  its 
bottom.  I  then  placed  my  foot  back  of  his  head  to  hold  him  down, 
in  order  to  disengage  my  hook,  which  passed  through  his  upper  jaw. 
No  sooner  had  I  attempted  this  than  he  began  to  flap  about,  compelling 
us  to  give  him  room  to  avoid  his  immense  jaws.  Every  moment 
seemed  to  increase  his  strength,  when  my-  companion  seized  an  oar  in 
order  to  dispatch  him,  while  I  took  out  my  knife  for  the  same  purpose. 
The  first  blow  with  the  oar  had  only  the  effect  to  awaken  our  fish, 


EECOIIDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  137 

which  taking  another  and  more  powerful  somerset,  threw  himself  over 
the  gunwale  of  our  skiff,  which  was  but  a  few  inches  above  the  water, 
and  with  a  plunge  disappeared  in  the  deep  water  at  our  side.  We  had 
scarcely  recovered  from  our  surprise,  when  I  found  my  line  drawn  out 
again  to  its  full  length,  save  a  few  tangles  and  twists,  which  had  got 
into  it  in  the  struggle  between  us  and  our  fish.  We  determined  to 
trifle  no  longer  with  the  fellow,  with  our  small  skiff,  but  to  make  for 
the  shore  and  there  land  him.  A  small  island,  a  short  distance  from 
us,  seemed  to  present  a  convenient  place,  and  here  without  further 
ceremony  we  pulled,  towing  our  fish  after  us.  I  leaped  into  the  water 
about  ten  feet  from  the  shore,  and  tugged  away  at  my  victim,  who 
floated  like  a  log  upon  the  water,  while  my  companion  stood  by  with 
an  oar  to  make  the  capture  more  sure  this  time.  In  this  way  we  landed 
him  in  safety  just  one  hour  and  a  quarter  after  he  was  first  hooked. 
This  maskinonge  weighed  49  pounds,  and  had  within  him  a  pike  of 
three  pounds  weight,  a  chub,  partially  decomposed,  of  four  pounds,  and 
a  perch  of  one  and  a  half  pounds,  which  appeared  to  have  been  but 
recently  swallowed;  yet  this  fish's  appetite  was  not  satisfied,  and  he 
lost  his  life  in  grasping  at  a  glittering  bauble.  Any  person  who  has 
ever  killed  a  pike  of  ten  pounds  or  upwards,  can  readily  imagine  the 
strength  of  one  five  times  its  weight. 

The  great  strength  of  these  fish  was  shown  in  a  sporting  adventure 
which  happened  to  a  friend  of  mine  when  out  a  few  evenings  since, 
spearing  by  torch  light.  The  person  alluded  to  had  never  before  tried 
his  hand  with  the  spear,  although  he  was  a  skillful  angler.  On  this 
occasion  he  had  killed  several  fish,  which  he  secured  without  trouble. 
He  was  then  in  about  six  or  eight  feet  of  water,  when  he  discovered 
a  large  fish,  either  a  very  large  pike  or  maskinonge.  He  planted  him 
self  with  one  foot  below  the  flaming  torch,  the  other  a  little  behind, 
when  he  plunged  his  spear  into  the  huge  fish  that  lay  so  quietly  before 
him;  but  whether  he  was  so  deceived  in  the  depth  of  the  water,  or 
whether  he  had  not  braced  himself  properly  in  the  boat  is  not  known, 
at  any  rate  he  struck  the  fish,  which  darted  off  like  lightning,  taking 
the  spear  with  him,  as  well  as  him  who  threw  it.  For  the  gentle 
man,  probably  deceived  by  the  depth  of  the  water,  had  reached  forward 
too  far  arid  thereby  lost  his  balance.  So  over  he  went  head  foremost, 

12* 


138  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

holding  on  to  the  spear.  But  he  was  satisfied  without  following  the 
fish  further,  which  escaped  with  the  long  spear,  neither  of  which  could 
be  again  seen.  The  gentleman  made  the  best  of  his  way  into  the 
skiff.  Two  days  after  a  large  maskinonge  floated  ashore  several  miles 
below  the  spot  where  the  event  took  place,  with  the  spear  still  clinging 
to  him,  just  before  the  dorsal  fin. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  139 


PLANTATION    CUSTOMS. 

WE  profess  to  be  neither  a  defender  nor  an  advocate  of  slavery,  but 
circumstances 'having  brought  us  into  frequent  communication  with  the 
colored  population  of  the  Southern  States,  we  have  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  our  opinions,  concerning  their  condition,  whether  correct 
or  not,  are  the  result  of  personal  observation.  We  do  indeed  consider 
the  institution  as  an  evil,  but  we  consider  the  fanaticism  of  the  North  to 
be  a  much  greater  evil.  By  birth  and  education  are  we  a  Northern  man, 
and  we  willingly  acknowledge  that  we  started  upon  our  first  journey 
through  the  Southern  States,  harboring  in  our  breast  an  unreasonable 
number  of  prejudices  against  the  institution  already  mentioned.  The 
tables,  however,  are  now  completely  turned.  Aside  from  the  abstract 
idea  which  has  ever  and  will  ever  trouble  us,  we  have  seen  but  little  to 
mourn  over  and  regret,  but  rather  observed  much,  as  touching  the  hap 
piness  of  the  negro  and  especially  his  customs,  which  we  cannot  but 
commend  and  admire.  Instead  of  commenting  upon  these  customs  in 
a  general  manner,  we  propose  to  give  an  idea  of  them  by  describing 
two  specimens — the  negro  manner  of  spending  the  Christmas  Holidays, 
and  the  prominent  features  of  one  of  their  Corn  Huskings. 

The  scene  of  our  first  description  is  a  plantation  in  the  interior  of 
South  Carolina.  Within  hailing  distance  of  the  planter's  mansion  is 
a  collection  of  picturesque  cabins,  where  are  domiciled  his  negroes, 
numbering  in  all  about  one  hundred  souls.  It  is  early  morning  and 
the  day  before  Christmas.  The  slaves  have  obtained  their  accustomed 
furlough,  which  is  to  last  until  the  close  of  the  year,  and  they  are  now 
on  the  point  of  carrying  to  the  market  of  some  neighboring  town  the 
products  they  may  have  obtained  from  their  allotted  plots  of  ground 
during  the  bygone  season.  All  the  means  of  conveyance  belonging 
to  the  plantation  have  been  placed  at  their  disposal,  and  the  day  has 
arrived  when  they  arc  to  receive  in  hard  money,  or  merchandise,  the 


140  EECOHDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

fruit  of  their  own  industry,  irrespective  of  their  obligations  to  their 
masters.  As  a  matter  of  course,  the  excitement  among  them  is  un 
usual,  and  is  participated  in  by  all — men,  women,  and  children.  All 
things  being  ready,  the  sable  fraternity  are  upon  the  move,  and  as  they 
enter  upon  a  road  winding  through  a  succession  of  picturesque  woods, 
we  will  glance  at  some  of  the  characters  belonging  to  the  cavalcade. 
The  leader  thereof  is  probably  the  most  industrious  and  frugal  of  the 
whole  brotherhood,  and  he  is  taking  to  market,  in  a  double  wagon 
drawn  by  two  horses,  some  two  or  three  bales  of  cotton,  which  he  will 
dispose  of  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  The  next  vehicle  is  also 
a  wagon,  and  in  it  are  two  or  three  old  women,  who  have  under  their 
especial  protection  an  assortment  of  poultry  which  it  is  their  intention 
to  exchange  with  the  village  merchant  for  any  little  conveniences  that 
they  may  need,  or  any  fancy  articles  that  they  may  desire.  Directly 
behind  these  we  have  a  noisy  party  of  girls  and  boys,  who  are  footing 
their  way  to  market  more  for  the  frolic  or  freedom  of  the  thing  than 
any  desire  to  obtain  money,  albeit  we  doubt  not  but  some  of  the  boys 
may  have  stowed  away  in  one  of  the  wagons  an  occasional  fox  or 
coon  skin  which  have  accidentally  come  into  their  possession  by  means 
of  their  cunningly  devised  traps.  In  another  wagon,  drawn  by  a  pair 
of  mules,  we  notice  a  load  of  miscellaneous  articles,  including  a  supply 
of  rudely  wrought  agricultural  implements,  a  few  bags  of  corn  and 
other  grain,  and  a  neatly  dressed  hog,  with  his  hoofs  pointing  to  the 
sky.  We  now  have  a  venerable  negro,  mounted  upon  an  equally 
venerable  horse,  his  only  saddle  consisting  of  a  large  bag  of  choice 
seeds,  which  he  has  been  permitted  to  glean  from  his  master's  fields  at 
the  end  of  the  harvest.  And  coming  up  in  the  rear,  is  the  excessively 
miscellaneous  portion  of  the  procession,  who  ramble  along,  so  far  as 
their  appearance  is  concerned,  somewhat  after  the  manner  of  a  party 
of  bedlamites,  but  as  joyous  and  light-hearted  as  if  they  were  the 
lords  instead  of  the  serfs  of  creation.  And  so  much  for  the  appear 
ance  of  our  friends  on  their  way  to  market. 

The  thousand  and  one  incidents  which  occur  at  the  town,  interesting 
and  unique  as  they  are,  we  will  leave  to  the  imagination  of  our  read 
ers.  Towards  the  close  of  the  day  the  party  return  to  their  cabins 
upon  the  plantation,  and  albeit  some  of  the  more  indiscreet  may  have. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  141 

imbibed  an  undue  quantity  of  the  intoxicating  beverage,  the  majority 
of  them  are  as  circumspect  in  their  deportment  as  could  JDC  expected. 
And  then,  on  their  arrival  home,  commences  the  long-anticipated  frolic 
of  Christmas  Eve.  The  banjos  and  fiddles  are  brought  forth,  and  de 
voting  themselves  most  heartily  to  the  pleasures  of  dancing,  singing, 
and  comparing  notes  as  to  the  acquisitions  made  during  the  day,  the 
hours  of  night  are  soon  numbered,  and  the  revelry  is  only  concluded 
by  the  approach  of  day. 

Two  hours  after  sunrise  on  Christmas  morning  the  sable  fraternity 
are  all  out  of  their  beds  and  moving  about  with  considerable  activity, 
considering  their  loss  of  sleep,  and  a  new  order  of  things  is  about  to 
occur.  The  house  servants,  and  such  of  the  field  hands  as  think  their 
services  may  be  needed,  place  themselves  in  the  way  of  the  master  and 
mistress  of  the  plantation,  and  cheerfully  perform  any  necessary  work 
which  may  be  allotted  to  them.  This  done,  they  return  to  their  cabins, 
and  plan  the  various  means  of  enjoying  themselves.  Those  old  women, 
and  others  who  are  religiously  disposed,  jump  into  a  wagon  and  drive 
to  some  neighboring  church  to  hear  the  story  of  the  Saviour.  Others, 
who  have  relatives  belonging  to  another  plantation,  start  off  upon- 
a  friendly  visitation.  Some,  who  have  a  passion  for  shooting,  and 
have  either  borrowed  or  purchased  the  necessary  fusees,  depart  upon  a 
vagabondizing  excursion  into  the  woods;  while  others,  who  are  particu 
larly  covetous,  and  have  already  experienced  the  satisfaction  of  owning  a 
little  property,  remain  about  the  premises  for  the  purpose  of  accom 
plishing  some  newly-conceived  scheme,  which  will  most  likely  result 
at  no  distant  day  in  his  purchasing  his  freedom.  As  Christmas  is  passed, 
so  are  the  remaining  days  of  the  week,  an  arrangement  having  been  made 
among  the  negroes,  that  a  portion  of  them  should  take  turns  with 
another  portion,  so  that  the  necessary  labor  of  the  plantation  might 
not  be  neglected.  At  the  commencement  of  the  year,  the  regular 
order  of  business  is  resumed  upon  the  plantation,  and  so  continues  with 
occasional  interruption  until  another  Christmas  arrives,  to  the  entire 
satisfaction,  both  of  master  and  slave. 

The  rural  custom  denominated  corn  husfmig  or  corn  shucking  is  pecu 
liar  to  the  Southern  States.  It  occurs  at  night,  in  the  autumn  of  the 
year,  is  participated  in  by  negroes  alone,  and  has  for  its  main  object 


142  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

the  husking  and  the  gathering  into  barns  of  the  yellow  maize  or  corn. 
And  the  locality  of  our  present  description  is  a  plantation  in  the  State  of 
Georgia. 

Intelligence  having  previously  been  circulated  throughout  the  dis 
trict,  that  a  husking  is  to  occur  on  a  certain  night,  at  a  certain  planta 
tion,  the  first  step,  as  a  matter  of  course,  is  to  prepare  for  the  contem 
plated  meeting.  The  corn  yielded  by  the  present  harvest  is  hauled 
in  from  the  surrounding  fields,  and  deposited  in  huge  heaps,  immedi- 
diately  around  the  crib  or  barn  into  which  it  is  eventually  to  be  depo 
sited.  The  roof  of  the  crib  having  been  built  so  as  to  be  easily  removed, 
and  for  the  purpose  of  allowing  the  corn  to  be  thrown  into  the  building 
from  a  considerable  distance,  it  is  accordingly  transferred  to  some  out-of- 
the-way  place,  there  to  remain  until  reappropriated  to  its  legitimate  use 
after  the  husking  is  ended.  The  next  step  is  to  bring  together  at  conve 
nient  points  around  the  barn  and  the  stacks  of  corn,  huge  quantities  of 
light  wood,  which  is  to  be  employed  for  the  several  purposes  of  tempering 
the  night  air,  affording  necessary  light,  and  rendering  the  approaching 
scene  as  cheerful  as  possible.  And  while  all  these  preparations  are 
being  made  by  the  men,  others  of  quite  as  much  importance  are  occu 
pying  the  attention  of  all  the  women  belonging  to  the  plantation,  whose 
business  it  is  to  prepare  the  feast  which  necessarily  follows  the  actual 
business  of  husking ;  while  the  children  are  probably  spending  their 
time  in  clearing  away  the  rubbish  from  a  level  spot  of  ground  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  bonfires,  where  it  is  more  than  probable  we  may  yet  have 
the  pleasure  of  witnessing  a  negro  dance. 

Night  has  settled  upon  the  world,  and  the  whole  space  enclosed  by 
the  planter's  mansion  and  his  almost  innumerable  outhouses,  is  filled 
with  a  hum  of  talking  and  laughing  voices — the  loud  talking  and  the 
hoarse  laughing  of  perhaps  two  hundred  negroes,  exclusive  of  woman 
and  children.  The  torch  is  now  applied  to  the  piles  of  dry  wood,  and 
by  the  brilliant  light  of  the  several  fires  the  huskers  move  to  their 
allotted  places  around  the  corn  house  and  seat  themselves  upon  the 
ground.  They  are  divided  into  what  might  be  termed  four  divisions 
(occupying  or  flanking  the  several  sides  of  the  house),  each  one  of 
which  is  "  headed"  by  one  of  the  smartest  men  in  the  company,  whose 
province  it  is  not  only  to  superintend  his  division,  and  with  the  assist 
ance  of  several  boys  to  throw  the  corn,  as  it  is  husked,  into  the  crib, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  143 

but  to  take  the  lead  in  the  singing  which,  among  the  blacks,  invariably, 
and  we  believe  necessarily,  accompanies  the  business  of  husking  corn. 
All  things  being  ready,  a  signal  is  given,  and  the  whole  party  fall  to 
work  as  if  their  very  lives  depended  upon  their  handling  a  specified 
quantity  of  the  white  and  yellow  grain.  At  the  same  instant  com 
mences  a  mingled  sound  of  shouting  and  singing  voices,  which  pre 
sently  swell  into  a  loud  and  truly  harmonious  chorus,  and  the  husking 
scene  is  in  its  prime.  The  very  fires  seem  elated  with  the  singular 
but  interesting  prospect  which  they  illumine,  and  shoot  their  broad 
sheets  of  flame  high  into  the  air.  Song  follows  song,  in  quick  succes 
sion,  and  in  every  direction  piles  of  beautiful  corn  seem  to  spring  out 
of  the  earth  as  if  by  magic,  and  with  the  quickness  of  magic  are  trans 
ferred  into  the  great  receptacle,  which  is  itself  rapidly  becoming  filled. 
Rude  indeed  are  the  songs  they  sing,  but  harmonious  and  plaintive. 
The  words  are  improvised  and  the  ideas  are  simple,  but  there  is  inva 
riably  a  pathos  and  harmony  in  the  chorus  which  fails  not  to  delight 
the  ear.  Amusing  stories  are  occasionally  told,  and  then  resoundeth 
far  over  the  quiet  fields  sleeping  in  moonlight,  even  as  did  the  songs, 
boisterous  peals  of  laughter.  One,  two,  three,  and  perhaps  four  hours 
have  elapsed,  and  it  is  now  midnight,  when  the  announcement  is  made 
by  some  patriarch  of  the  company  that  the  corn  is  all  husked,  and  the 
crib  is  nearly  full.  One  more  song  is  called  for,  during  the  singing 
of  which  the  roof  is  replaced  upon  the  corn  house,  and  after  congre 
gating  around  the  fires,  partly  with  a  view  of  comparing  notes  as  to 
the  amount  of  labor  performed,  but  more  especially  for  the  purpose  of 
drying  the  sweat  from  their  sable  faces,  the  entire  party  of  buskers 
move  to  the  spacious  kitchen  attached  to  the  planter's  mansion. 

And  here  an  entirely  new  scene  presents  itself  to  our  view.  Board 
tables  have  been  spread  in  every  available  corner,  and  even  in  the 
more  sheltered  portions  of  the  adjoining  yard,  and  everywhere  is  dis 
played  a  most  sumptuous  entertainment,  consisting  not  only  of  the 
substantiate  of  life,  strangely  served  up  in  the  form  of  a  thick  soup, 
but  abounding  even  in  luxuries.  Good  whisky  and  perhaps  peach 
brandy  is  supplied  in  reasonable  quantities,  and  the  women,  having 
finished  their  allotted  duties,  now  mingle  with  the  men,  and  the  feast 
ing  company  presents  as  merry  and  happy  a  picture  of  rural  life  as 


144  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

can  well  be  imagined.  Each  negro  devotes  himself  to  his  particular 
mess,  and  somewhat  after  the  manner  of  the  aborigines.  Jokes  of 
questionable  elegance  and  delicacy  are  uttered  to  a  considerable  ex 
tent,  and  many  compliments  paid  to  the  l(  liUral  and  magnanimous 
massa  ob  dis  plantation"  On  such  occasions,  as  might  not  be  sup 
posed,  acts  of  decided  impropriety  but  seldom  occur,  and  it  is  not 
often  that  a  sufficient  quantity  of  spirit  is  imbibed,  either  materially  to 
injure  the  health  or  produce  intoxication.  In  this  particular,  even 
the  "down-trodden"  slaves,  as  they  are  called,  may  often  set  a  worthy 
example  for  the  imitation  of  those  who  occupy  a  more  elevated  rank 
in  society. 

We  now  come  to  describe  the  concluding  scene  of  the  corn-husking 
entertainment,  which  consists  of  a  dance  upon  the  spot  cleared  away 
by  the  boys  in  the  vicinity  of  the  late  fires,  which  are  replenished 
for  further  use.  The  scraping  of  fiddles  and  the  thumping  of 
banjos  having  been  heard  above  the  clatter  of  spoovis,  soup-plates,  and 
gourds,  at  the  various  supper  tables,  a  new  stampede  takes  place,  and 
the  musicians  are  hurried  off  to  the  dancing  ground,  as  if  to  trip  the 
light  fantastic  toe  were  deemed  the  climax  of  earthly  happiness. 
"  On  with  the  dance,  let  joy  be  unconfined."  But  there  seemeth  no 
need  of  the  poet's  advice  on  the  present  occasion,  for  the  sable  con 
gregation  now  assembled,  seem  animated  with  an  almost  frantic 
excitement.  The  dance,  as  a  matter  of  course,  is  the  famous  "  Vir 
ginia  Reel"  and  at  least  a  hundred  individuals  have  formed  them 
selves  in  their  proper  places.  No  sooner  do  the  instruments  attain 
the  necessary  pitch,  than  the  head  couples  dash  into  the  arena,  now 
slowly  and  disdainfully,  now  swiftly  and  ferociously,  and  now  per 
forming  the  double  shuffle  or  the  pigeon-wing.  Anon  they  come  to  a 
stand,  while  others  follow,  and  go  through  the  same  fantastic  perform 
ances,  with  the  addition  perhaps  of  an  occasional  leap  or  whirl. 
The  excitement  is  becoming  more  intense  than  ever,  and  it  is  evident 
that  those  whose  business  it  is  to  stand  still,  are  actually  dancing  in 
their  shoes.  Louder  than  ever  wails  the  music — order  is  followed  by 
confusion — and  in  the  madness  of  the  dance  there  is  no  method. 
The  brilliant  watch-fires  cast  a  ruddy  glow  upon  the  faces  of  the 
dancers,  and  when,  as  it  sometimes  happens,  an  individual  chances 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  145 

to  wander  without  the  circle,  his  leaping  and  uncouth  figure  pictured 
against  the  sky,  resembles  more  the  form  of  a  lost  spirit  than  a  human 
being.  Music,  dancing,  shouting,  leaping,  and  laughing,  with  other 
indescribable  matters,  are  mingled  together  in  a  most  unique  manner, 
constituting  a  spectacle  only  equaled  by  the  midnight  dances  of 
painted  savages.  For  hours  does  this  frolic  continue,  and  perhaps  is 
only  brought  to  an  end  by  the  crowing  of  a  cock,  or  the  first  glimpse 
over  the  eastern  hills,  of  the  coming  day.  And  then  comes  the 
breaking  up  of  the  assembly,  so  that  by  the  usual  breakfast  hour,  the 
negroes  have  reached  the  several  plantations  to  which  they  belong, 
and  after  spending  rather  an  idle  day,  are  ready  for  any  other 
husking  to  which  they  may  be  invited,  and  which  their  masters  will 
permit  them  to  attend. 


13 


146  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


FISHING   IN   GENERAL. 

"  We  have,  indeed,  often  thought  that  angling  alone  offers  to  man  the  degree  of 
half  business,  half  idleness,  which  the  fair  sex  find  in  their  needle-work  or 
knitting,  which,  employing  the  hands,  leaves  the  mind  at  liberty,  and  occupying 
the  attention,  so  far  as  is  necessary  to  remove  the  painful  sense  of  a  vacuity, 
yet  yields  room  for  contemplation,  whether  upon  things  heavenly  or  earthly, 
cheerful  or  melancholy/'  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 

IN  the  preceding  articles  we  have  given  the  public  the  substance 
of  our  experience  in  regard  to  our  five  favorite  fish,  the  salmon,  trout, 
pike,  rock,  and  black  basse.  On  the  present  occasion  we  purpose  to 
embody  within  the  limits  of  a  single  article,  our  stock  of  information 
upon  the  remaining  fish  of  the  United  States,  which  properly  come 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  angler.  We  shall  proceed  in  our  re 
marks  after  the  manner  of  the  dictionary-makers,  and  shall  take  up 
each  variety  without  any  regard  to  their  order,  but  as  they  may  hap 
pen  to  come  into  our  mind. 

The  Perch. — With  two  members  of  this  family  alone  are  we  person 
ally  acquainted,  viz.  the  yellow  perch  and  the  white  perch.  The 
first  is  a  beautiful  fish,  and  found  in  nearly  all  the  waters  of  the  North 
ern  and  Middle  States,  and  probably  as  well  known  throughout  the 
world  as  any  of  the  finny  tribes.  Its  predominating  color  is  yellow ; 
it  has  an  elegant  form,  is  a  bold  biter,  varies  in  weight  from  four 
ounces  to  a  pound  (although  occasionally  found  in  New  England 
weighing  two  pounds)  ;  has  a  dry  and  sweet  flesh,  but  ill  adapted  to 
satisfy  the  cravings  of  a  hungry  man  on  account  of  its  bones,  which 
are  particularly  numerous,  hard,  and  pointed.  They  generally  swim 
about  in  schools,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  are  not  at  all  distinguished 
for  their  intelligence,  being  invariably  allured  to  destruction  by  the 
most  bungling  anglers,  and  the  more  common  kinds  of  bait.  They 
spawn  in  the  autumn,  and  recover,  so  as  to  be  in  fine  condition,  early  in 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  147 

the  spring.  They  delight  in  clear  rivers  or  lakes,  with  pebbly  bottoms, 
though  sometimes  found  on  sandy  or  clayey  soils.  They  love  a  mo 
derately  deep  water,  and  frequent  holes  at  the  mouth  of  small  streams 
or  the  hollows  under  the  banks.  With  regard  to  the  white  perch  we 
have  only  to  say  that  it  is  well  described  by  its  name,  is  a  migratory 
fish,  found  in  nearly  all  the  rivers  of  the  Atlantic  coast,  from  Boston 
to  Norfolk ;  and  they  weigh  from  six  ounces  to  one  pound,  are  in 
season  during  the  spring  and  summer,  are  capital  as  an  article  of  food, 
and  afford  the  entire  brotherhood  of  anglers  an  abundance  of  sport. 
As  touching  the  name  of  the  fish  now  before  us,  we  desire  to  chronicle 
our  opinion  respecting  an  important  instance  in  which  it  has  been 
misapplied.  Many  years  ago,  while  reading  the  remarkable  and 
intensely  interesting  work  of  Audubon  on  the  birds  of  America,  we 
chanced  upon  the  description  of  a  fish,  found  in  the  Ohio,  to  which  he 
gave  the  name  of  white  perch.  Subsequently  to  that  period,  while 
sojourning  in  the  city  of  Cincinnati,  we  happened  to  remember  Mr." 
Audubon's  description,  and  one  morning  visited  the  market  for  the 
purpose  of  examining  the  fish.  We  found  them  very  abundant,  and 
were  informed  that  they  commanded  a  high  price.  On  examining  the 
fish,  however,  in  view  of  certain  doubts  that  we  had  previously  enter 
tained  (for  we  knew  that  the  white  perch  of  the  book  was  a  native  of 
salt  water),  we  found  it  to  be  not  a  legitimate  white  perch,  but  simply 
the  fish  known  on  Lake  Erie  as  the  fresh  water  sheeps-head.  But 
this  misapplication  of  the  term  perch  is  not  peculiar  to  the  residents 
on  the  Ohio,  for  we  know  that,  throughout  the  Southern  States  where 
the  black  basse  is  found,  it  is  universally  called  the  black  perch ;  and 
that  in  the  vicinity  of  Boston  and  Nahant  the  miserable  little  fish 
called  the  Conner  is  there  designated  as  a  black  perch.  That  there 
are  several  varieties  of  the  real  perch  besides  those  which  we  have 
mentioned  we  do  not  deny,  but  we  feel  confident  that  the  above  cor 
rection  cannot  be  refuted. 

The  Maslcalunge  and  Pickerel. — Both  of  these  fish  are  peculiar  to 
the  United  States,  and  especially  to  the  Great  Lakes,  and  the  waters 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  Mississippi.  The  former  belongs  unquestion 
ably  to  the  pike  family,  although  commonly  weighing  from  twenty  to 
forty  pounds,  while  many  people  affirm  that  it  is  only  an  overgrown 


148  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

pike.  They  are  valued  as  an  article  of  food,  and  by  those  who  are 
fond  of  killing  the  most  savage  of  game  at  the  expense  of  much  labor, 
they  are  highly  appreciated.  The  best  and  about  the  only  valuable 
account  of  this  fish  that  we  have  ever  seen,  was  written  by  George  W. 
Clinton,  Esq.,  and  published  in  the  Buffalo  Commercial  Advertiser. 
As  to  the  fish  which  we  call  the  pickerel,  we  have  to  say  that  it  occu 
pies  a  position  somewhere  between  the  trout  and  perch;  that  it  is  a 
favorite  with  the  anglers  of  Lake  Champlain,  Lake  Erie,  and  Lake 
Michigan,  and  with  those  also  who  practice  the  gentle  art  along  the 
borders  of  the  Ohio  and  the  Tennessee.  It  is  an  active  fish,  of  a 
roundish  form,  with  large  mouth  and  sharp  teeth,  and  covered  with 
small  scales,  the  predominating  colors  being  a  dark  green  and  yellow 
ish  white.  The  name  which  it  bears  is  the  one  so  generally  applied, 
but  erroneously,  to  the  legitimate  pike.  It  is  also  the  same  fish  known 
in  the  Southwest  as  the  salmon,  but  as  unlike  the  peerless  creature  of 
the  far  North  as  a  gray  wolf  is  unlike  a  deer.  As  is  the  case  with  the 
maskalunge,  the  pickerel  is  among  the  first  of  the  finny  tribes  that 
run  up  our  Western  rivers  early  in  the  spring ;  and  in  the  waters  of 
Lake  Champlain  and  the  St.  Lawrence  they  are  found  herding  with 
the  yellow  perch,  and  we  believe  that  in  some  districts  they  are  con 
sidered  as  belonging  to  the  perch  family. 

The  Catfish. — This  fish  is  distinguished  for  its  many  deformities, 
and  is  a  great  favorite  with  all  persons  who  have  a  fancy  for  muddy 
waters.  In  the  Mississippi  they  are  frequently  taken  weighing  up 
wards  of  one  hundred  pounds;  and  while  they  are  taken  in  all  the 
tributaries  of  that  river,  it  has  been  ascertained  that  they  decrease  in 
size  as  you  ascend  towards  the  north.  They  are  also  found  in  the 
tributaries  of  Lake  Erie.  They  are  taken  with  any  kind  of  bait;  and 
as  they  are  very  strong  the  best  of  tackle  is  invariably  necessary. 
This  fish  is  also  found  in  many  of  the  lakes  of  New  England,  where 
they  seldom  weigh  more  than  two  pounds,  being  there  known  as  the 
horn  or  bull  pout,  owing  to  a  peculiar  pictorial  thorn  with  which,  they 
are  adorned.  Their  flesh,  though  not  particularly  sweet,  is  said  to  be 
easily  digested,  and  they  are  often  sought  for  by  people  with  weak 
stomachs.  But  it  has  always  seemed  to  us  that  it  required,  a  very 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  149 

powerful  stomach  to  eat  a  piece  from  one  of  the  mammoths  of  the 
Western  waters. 

As  to  the  remaining  fresh-water  fish  of  the  country,  we  will  content 
ourself  by  merely  mentioning  the  names  of  those  which  are  known  to 
our  anglers,  to  wit  :  the  chub,  dace,  white  basse,  sunfish,  roach, 
bream,  and  rock  basse.  The  fish  called  in  Virginia  and  Maryland  the 
fall  fish  is  identical  with  the  dace.  In  the  waters  of  the  West  the 
mullet,  fresh  water  sheepshead,  and  sucker,  are  found  in  immense 
numbers,  but  they  are  all  exceedingly  poor  eating,  and  as  sporting 
fish  are  of  no  account.  The  sturgeon,  we  believe,  is  found  almost 
everywhere,  and  known  to  almost  everybody. 

There  is  a  fish  found  in  Florida  which  we  have  never  seen,  but 
which,  from  all  the  descriptions  that  we  have  heard,  belongs  either  to 
the  trout  or  basse  families.  It  abounds  in  all  the  rivers,  lakes  and 
springs  of  this  State,  is  a  bold  biter,  reaches  the  weight  of  fifteen 
pounds,  has  a  white  and  sweet  flesh,  and  is  taken  in  very  much  the 
manner  employed  by  northern  anglers  in  capturing  the  pike,  and 
with  similar  artificial  baits. 

We  now  come  to  our  favorites  of  the  ocean  and  tide-water  rivers ; 
and  the  first  fish  that  we  mention  is  the  black  fish,  or  tautog,  as  it  was 
called  by  the  Mohegan  Indians.  It  is  a  stationary  inhabitant  of  the 
salt  water,  and  usually  found  upon  reefs  and  along  rocky  shores.  It 
is  taken  all  along  the  Atlantic  coast  between  New  York  and  Boston, 
but  it  has  been  known  north  of  Cape  Cod  only  within  a  few  years ; 
its  legitimate  home  is  Long  Island  Sound.  It  is  an  active,  bold, 
strong,  and  tough  fish,  highly  esteemed  as  an  article  of  food,  and,  like 
the  cod,  is  brought  to  the  principal  markets  in  floating  cars,  in  which 
confinement  they  are  said  to  fatten.  They  are  by  no  means  a  hand 
some  fish,  and  their  scales  are  so  adhesive  as  to  be  taken  off  only  with 
the  skin.  They  are  a  summer  fish,  being  taken  as  early  as  April,  and 
no  later  than  October.  A  three-pounder  is  considered  a  good  fish,  but 
we  have  often  taken  them  weighing  ten  pounds,  and  have  seen  them 
weighing  fifteen  pounds.  They  are  generally  taken  with  the  hand 
line,  and  no  better  bait  can  be  employed  than  the  lobster  or  soft  crab. 

The  Sheepshead. — This  is  a  thick  set  but  rather  handsome  fish, 
and,  for  the  sweetness  of  its  flesh,  highly  esteemed.  They  are  seldom 

L3* 


150  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

seen  in  the  New  York  market,  but  very  common  in  the  Charleston 
and  Mobile  markets,  from  which  we  infer  that  they  are  partial  to 
southern  waters.  They  vary  in  weight  from  three  pounds  to  fourteen ; 
live  exclusively  upon  shell  fish,  and  invariably  command  a  high  price. 
They  are  popular  with  the  anglers,  for  they  swim  in  shoals  and  are 
captured  with  but  little  trouble. 

The  Blue  Fish. — The  name  of  this  glorious  fish  reminds  us  of  the 
ground  swell,  and  sends  through  our  whole  frame  a  thrill  of  pleasure. 
They  are  a  species  of  mackerel,  attaining  in  certain  places  the  weight 
of  a  dozen  pounds.  They  swim  in  shoals,  and  are  taken  with  a  trolling 
line  and  an  ivory  squid.  Our  favorite  mode  for  taking  them  has  ever 
been  from  a  small  boat  with  a  hand  line,  though  many  people  prefer 
taking  them  from  a  sailboat  when  running  before  a  breeze.  They  are 
quite  as  active  a  fish  as  we  have  ever  seen,  and  the  strength  of  their 
jaws  is  so  great  that  we  have  known  them  to  bite  off  a  man's  finger. 
When  fresh  and  fat  we  consider  them  quite  as  delicate  as  the  real 
mackerel,  and  much  better  than  the  black  fish.  They  are  found  on 
the  sea  coast  as  far  south  as  Norfolk  (where  they  are  called  tailors), 
but  they  are  particularly  abundant  along  the  shores  of  Connecticut 
and  Rhode  Island.  In  some  places  we  have  often  found  them  so  nu 
merous  that  we  have  seen  a  dozen  of  them  darting  after  our  squid  at 
the  same  instant.  They  are  in  season  during  the  whole  of  summer 
and  autumn. 

Another  capital  fish  that  we  have  caught  "  all  along  shore"  between 
New  York  and  Cape  Cod,  is  the  weak  fisliy  or  squeteague.  It  never 
comes  into  the  fresh  water  rivers,  and  usually  makes  its  appearance 
about  harvest  time.  Its  habits  are  similar  to  those  of  the  striped 
basse,  and  in  appearance  it  closely  resembles  the  ciscovet,  of  Lake 
Superior.  They  commonly  weigh  from  three  to  five  pounds,  though 
they  have  been  taken  weighing  nearly  ten.  They  are  bold  biters, 
and  highly  esteemed  for  their  sweetness. 

With  regard  to  the  remaining  fish  found  on  our  seaboard  we  are 
disposed  to  be  quite  brief.  The  mackerel  we  esteem,  and  have  had 
rare  sport  in  taking  them,  but  we  look  upon  them  as  the  exclusive 
property  of  our  merchants.  The  halibut  we  admire,  but  fear,  for  he 
reminds  us  of  one  of  the  most  fatiguing  piscatorial  adventures  we  ever 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  151 

experienced,  when  we  hooked  a  thirty  pounder  in  the  Atlantic,  one 
hundred  miles  off  Nantucket.  As  to  the  cod,  we  have  only  to  say 
that  we  have  caught  them  off  Nahant  by  the  hundred,  and  never  wish 
to  catch  any  more ;  like  the  mackerel,  we  consider  them  the  exclusive 
property  of  the  mercantile  fraternity.  With  the  king  fish  and  drum 
we  are  wholly  unacquainted.  The  torn  cod  and  Conner  or  Hue  perch 
we  despise,  and  our  antipathy  to  snakes  has  always  caused  us  to 
avoid  the  eel.  Of  the  sea  basse  and  paugee,  if  we  knew  what  to  say, 
we  would  indite  a  long  paragraph,  for  we  esteem  them  both.  As  to 
the  shad  and  sea  sturgeon,  we  shall  dismiss .  them  with  an  angler's 
scorn,  for  they  know  not  what  it  is  to  take  the  hook.  And  now  that 
we  have  reached  the  bottom  of  our  last  page  (devoted  to  the  finny 
tribes),  we  are  reminded  of  the  very  peculiar  but  sweet  and  valuable 
fish,  which  are  ever  found  only  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea — the  flounder 
and  fiat-fish.  Many  a  time  and  oft  have  we  taken  them  both  with 
the  hook  and  spear,  and  we  can  pay  them  no  higher  compliment  than 
by  mentioning  the  fact  that  they  are  particular  favorites  with  the  dis 
tinguished  painter,  William  S.  Mount,  Esq.,  of  Long  Island. 


152  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


OUR  MASTER  IN  LANDSCAPE. 

"His  departure  has  left  a  vacuity  which  amazes  and  alarms  us.  It  is  as  if 
the  voyager  on  the  Hudson  were  to  look  to  the  great  range  of  the  Catskills,  at 
the  foot  of  which  Cole,  with  a  reverential  fondness,  had  fixed  his  abode,  and 
were  to  see  that  the  grandest  of  its  summits  had  disappeared,  had  sunk  into  the 
plain  from  our  sight.  I  might  use  a  bolder  similitude  ;  it  is  as  if  we  were  to 
look  over  the  heavens  on  a  starlight  evening  and  find  that  one  of  the  greater 
planets,  Hesperus  or  Jupiter,  had  been  blotted  from  the  sky." 

FUNERAL  ORATION  BY  WILLIAM:  CULLEN  BRYANT. 

UPON  the  romantic  life  of  the  greatest  of  American  landscape 
painters  it  is  not  our  province  to  discourse,  for  that  task  has  been  as 
signed  to  a  gifted  poet  and  friend  of  the  departed — the  Reverend  Louis 
L.  Noble ; — nor  do  we  purpose  to  expatiate  upon  his  beautiful  cha 
racter  as  a  man,  and  his  genius  as  an  artist;  for  that  labor  of  love  has 
already  been  accomplished  by  the  eminent  poet  from  whom  we  have 
borrowed  our  motto.  The  only  idea  that  we  have  in  view,  is  simply 
to  describe  the  truly  Epic  productions  of  the  late  Thomas  Cole  (in 
whose  studio,  which  looked  out  upon  the  Catskill  Mountains,  we  have 
spent  many  pleasant  hours),  for  the  edification  of  those  of  our  readers 
who  have  never  had  an  opportunity  of  examining  them. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  we  will  turn  our  attention  to  the  series  of 
five  pictures,  entitled  "The  Course  of  Empire."  This  work  is  an 
epitome  of  the  life  of  man,  and  is  conceived  and  executed  in  a  manner 
which  must  convince  the  beholder  that  the  artist  possessed  many  of 
the  attributes  of  the  philosopher,  the  poet,  and  the  Christian. 

In  the  first  picture  we  have  a  perfectly  wild  scene  of  rocks,  mount 
ains,  woods,  and  a  bay  of  the  ocean,  reposing  in  the  luxuriance  of  a 
ripe  spring.  The  clouds  of  night  are  being  dissipated  by  the  beams 
of  the  rising  sun.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  bay  rises  a  lofty  pro 
montory,  crowned  by  a  singular,  isolated  rock,  which  would  ever  be  a 
conspicuous  landmark  to  the  mariner.  As  the  same  locality  is  pre- 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  153 

served  in  each  picture  of  the  series,  this  rock  identifies  it,  although  the 
position  of  the  spectator  changes  in  the  several  pictures.  The  chase 
being  the  most  characteristic  occupation  of  savage  life,  in  the  fore 
ground  we  see  an  Indian  clothed  in  skins,  pursuing  a  wounded  deer, 
which  is  bounding  down  a  narrow  ravine.  On  a  rock,  in  the  middle 
ground,  are  other  Indians,  with  their  dogs  surrounding  another  deer. 
On  the  bosom  of  a  little  river  below  are  a  number  of  canoes  passing 
down  the  stream,  while  many  more  are  drawn  up  on  the  shore.  On 
an  elevation  beyond  these  is  a  cluster  of  wigwams,  and  a  number  of 
Indians  dancing  round  a  fire.  In  this  picture  we  have  the  first  ru 
diments  of  society.  Men  are  already  banded  together  for  mutual  aid 
in  the  chase.  In  the  canoes,  huts,  and  weapons,  we  perceive  that  the 
useful  arts  have  commenced,  and  in  the  singing,  which  usually  accom 
panies  the  dance  of  savages,  we  behold  the  germs  of  music  and  poetry. 
The  Empire  is  asserted,  to  a  limited  degree,  over  sea,  land,  and  the 
animal  kingdom. 

Ages  have  passed  away,  and  in  the  second  picture  we  have  the 
Simple  or  Arcadian  State  of  Society.  The  time  of  day  is  a  little  be 
fore  noon,  and  the  season  early  summer.  The  "untracked  and  rude" 
has  been  tamed  and  softened.  Shepherds  are  tending  their  flocks  ;  a 
solitary  ploughman,  with  his  oxen,  is  turning  up  the  soil;  and  in  the 
rude  vessels  passing  into  the  haven  of  a  growing  village,  and  in  the 
skeleton  of  a  barque  building  on  the  shore,  we  perceive  the  com 
mencement  of  Commerce.  From  a  rude  temple  on  a  hill  the  smoke 
of  sacrifice  is  ascending  to  the  sky,  symbolizing  the  spirit  of  Religion. 
In  the  foreground,  on  the  left  hand,  is  seated  an  old  man,  who,  by  de 
scribing  strange  figures  in  the  sand,  seems  to  have  made  some  geome 
trical  discovery,  demonstrating  the  infancy  of  Science.  On  the  right 
hand  is  a  woman  with  a  distaff,  about  crossing  a  stone  bridge;  beside 
her,  a  boy  is  drawing  on  a  stone  the  figure  of  a  man  with  a  sword; 
and  beyond  these,  ascending  the  road,  a  soldier  is  partly  seen.  Under 
some  noble  trees,  in  the  middle  distance,  are  a  number  of  peasants 
dancing  to  the  music  of  pipe  and  timbrel.  All  these  things  show  us 
that  society  is  steadily  progressing  in  its  march  of  usefulness  and 
power. 

Ages  have  again  passed  away,  and  in  the  third  picture  we  have  a 


154  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

magnificent  city.  It  is  now  mid-day,  and  early  autumn.  The  bay 
is  now  surrounded  by  piles  of  architecture,  temples,  colonnades,  and 
domes.  It  is  a  day  of  rejoicing.  The  spacious  harbor  is  crowded 
with  vessels,  war-galleys,  ships,  and  barques,  their  silken  sails  glisten 
ing  in  the  sunshine.  Moving  over  a  massive  stone  bridge,  in  the  fore 
ground,  is  a  triumphal  procession.  The  conqueror,  robed  in  purple, 
is  mounted  on  a  car  drawn  by  an  elephant,  and  surrounded  by  captives 
and  a  numerous  train  of  guards  and  servants,  many  of  them  bearing 
pictures  and  golden  treasures.  As  he  is  about  to  pass  the  triumphal 
arch,  beautiful  girls  strew  flowers  in  his  path;  gay  festoons  of  drapery 
hang  from  the  clustered  columns ;  golden  trophies  glitter  in  the  sun, 
and  incense  rises  from  silver  censers.  Before  a  Doric  temple,  on  the 
left,  a  multitude  of  white-robed  priests  are  standing  on  the  marble 
steps,  while  near  them  a  religious  ceremony  is  being  performed  before 
a  number  of  altars.  The  statue  of  Minerva,  with  a  Victory  in  her 
hand,  stands  above  the  building  of  the  Caryatides,  on  a  columned  pe 
destal,  near  which  is  a  company  of  musicians,  with  cymbals,  "  trum 
pets  also,  and  shawms."  From  the  lofty  portico  of  a  palace,  an  im 
perial  personage  is  watching  the  procession,  surrounded  by  her  children, 
attendants,  and  guards.  Nations  have  been  subjugated,  man  has 
reached  the  summit  of  human  glory.  Wealth,  power,  knowledge,  and 
taste  have  worked  together  and  accomplished  the  highest  meed  of  hu 
man  achievement  and  Empire. 

Another  change — and  lo !  in  the  fourth  picture,  the  Vicious  State, 
or  State  of  Destruction.  Behold  the  consequences  of  luxury,  in  the 
weakened  and  debased  condition  of  mankind.  A  savage  enemy  has 
entered  the  once  proud  and  happy  city ;  a  fierce  tempest  is  raging ; 
walls  and  colonnades  are  lying  in  the  dust,  and  temples  and  palaces 
are  being  consumed  by  the  torch  of  the  incendiary.  The  fire  of  ven 
geance  is  swallowing  up  the  devoted  city.  An  arch  of  the  bridge 
over  which  the  triumphal  procession  had  before  passed,  has  been  bat 
tered  down,  and  broken  pillars,  ruins  of  war-engines,  and  the  tempo 
rary  bridge  which  had  been  thrown  over,  indicate  that  this  has  been 
the  scene  of  direst  contention.  Now  there  is  a  terrible  conflict  on  the 
bridge,  whose  insecurity  accelerates  the  horror  of  the  conflict.  Horses, 
and  men,  and  chariots,  are  precipitated  into  the  raging  waves.  War- 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  155 

galleys  are  contending ;  others  in  flames ;  and  others  still,  sinking  be 
neath  the  prow  of  a  superior  foe.  Smoke  and  flames  are  issuing  from 
the  falling  and  prostrate  edifices ;  and  along  the  battlements  and  in  the 
blocked-up  streets  the  conflict  is  dreadful  indeed.  The  foreground  is 
strewed  with  the  bodies  of  the  dead  and  dying.  Some  have  fallen 
into  the  basin  of  a  fountain,  tinging  the  water  with  blood.  One  fe 
male  is  sitting  in  mute  despair  over  the  dead  body  of  her  son ;  another 
leaping  over  a  battlement,  to  escape  the  grasp  of  a  ruffian  soldier;  and 
other  soldiers  drag  a  woman  by  the  hair  down  the  steps,  that  form  the 
pedestal  of  a  mutilated  colossal  statue,  whose  shattered  head  lies  on 
the  pavement  below.  A  barbarous  enemy  has  conquered  the  city; 
Carnage  and  Destruction  have  asserted  their  frightful  Empire. 

The  last  and  most  impressive  picture  of  this  series  is  the  scene  of 
Desolation.  The  sun  has  just  departed,  and  the  moon  is  ascending 
the  twilight  sky  over  the  ocean,  near  the  place  where  the  sun  rose  in 
the  first  picture.  The  shades  of  evening  are  gradually  stealing  over 
the  shattered  and  ivy-grown  ruins  of  that  once  great  city.  A  lonely 
column  rises  in  the  foreground,  on  whose  capital  a  solitary  heron  has 
built  her  nest,  and  at  the  foot  of  it  her  mate  is  standing  in  the  water, 
both  of  them  apparently  conscious  of  being  a  living  mockery.  The 
Doric  temple  and  triumphal  bridge  may  still  be  identified  among  the 
ruins,  which  are  laved  by  the  waters  of  the  tranquil  sea.  But  though 
man  and  his  works  have  perished,  the  steep  promontory  with  its  iso 
lated  rock,  still  rears  itself  against  the  sky,  unmoved,  unchanged. 
Time  has  consumed  the  works  of  man,  and  art  is  resolving  into  its 
elemental  nature.  The  gorgeous  pageant  has  passed,  the  roar  of  bat 
tle  has  ceased,  the  multitude  has  mingled  with  the  dust,  the  Empire 
is  extinct. 

The  first,  second,  and  last  of  these  paintings  are  the  best  of  the  se 
ries,  not  only  in  the  poetry  they  portray,  but  in  their  execution. 
The  style  is  more  varied  and  natural,  and  has  less  the  appearance  of 
paint  than  many  of  the  artist's  later  productions.  As  to  the  third  and 
fourth  paintings,  the  conception  of  both  is  exceedingly  fine  and  poet 
ical,  but  they  are  deficient  in  execution.  The  architecture  is  admirably 
done,  but  the  numerous  figures  which  it  was  necessary  to  introduce, 
are  poorly  drawn  and  arranged ;  and  there  is  a  feebleness  in  the  eflect. 


156  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

It  would  be,  perhaps,  too  much  to  ask  that  an  artist  should  be  a  great 
painter  of  scenery,  and  also  a  master  of  the  human  figure.  As  a  whole, 
however,  the  Course  of  Empire  is  a  work  of  art  worthy  of  any  nation 
or  any  painter.  These  pictures  were  painted  for  the  late  Luman 
Reed,  at  a  cost  of  eight  thousand  dollars,  but  are  now  the  property 
of  the  New  York  Gallery,  which  institution  owes  its  existence  to 
Mr.  Reed,  whose  collection  of  pictures  formed  the  foundation 
thereof. 

The  next  work  to  which  we  would  call  the  attention  of  our  readers 
is  called  "  The  Voyage  of  Life."  It  is  a  series  of  four  pictures,  alle- 
gorically  portraying  the  prominent  features  of  man's  life,  viz  :  child 
hood,  youth,  manhood,  and  old  age.  The  subject  is  one  of  such  uni 
versal  interest,  that  it  were  almost  impossible  to  treat  it  in  an  entirely 
original  manner,  but  no  one  can  deny  that  the  conception  of  the  painter 
displays  a  high  and  rare  order  of  poetic  power. 

In  the  first,  we  behold  the  dawn  of  a  summer  morning.  A  trans 
lucent  stream  is  issuing  from  an  unknown  source,  out  of  a  deep  cavern 
in  the  side  of  a  mountain.  Floating  gently  down  the  stream,  is  a 
golden  boat,  made  of  the  sculptured  figures  of  the  Hours,  while  the 
prow  is  formed  by  the  present  hour  holding  forth  an  emblem  of  Time. 
It  is  filled  with  flowers,  and  on  these  a  little  child  is  seated,  tossing 
them  with  his  upraised  hands,  and  smiling  with  new-born  joy,  as  he 
looks  upon  the  unnumbered  beauties  and  glories  of  this  bright  world 
around  him ;  while  a  guardian  angel  is  at  the  helm,  with  his  wings 
lovingly  and  protectingly  extended  over  the  child.  Love,  purity,  and 
beauty  emanate  like  incense  from  the  sky,  the  earth,  and  water,  so  that 
the  heart  of  the  gazer  seems  to  forget  the  world,  and  lose  itself  in  a 
dream  of  heaven. 

A  few  fleeting  years  are  gone,  and  behold  the  change  !  The  Stream 
of  Life  is  widened,  and  its  current  strong  and  irresistible,  but  it  flows 
through  a  country  of  surpassing  loveliness.  The  voyager,  who  is  now 
a  youth,  has  taken  the  helm  into  his  own  hands,  and  the  dismissed 
angel  stands  upon  the  shore  looking  at  him  with  "  a  look  made  of  all 
sweet  accord/'  as  if  he  said  in  his  heart,  "  God  be  with  thee,  thought 
less  mortal !"  But  the  youth  heeds  not  his  angel,  for  his  eyes  are  now 
riveted  by  an  airy  castle  pictured  against  the  sky,  dome  above  dome, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  157 

reaching  to  the  very  zenith.  The  phantom  of  worldly  happiness  and 
worldly  ambition  has  absorbed  the  imagination  and  eager  gaze  of  the 
wayward  voyager,  and  as  he  urges  his  frail  bark  onward,  he  dreams  not 
of  the  dangers  which  may  await  him  in  his  way.  To  the  boat,  only  a 
few  flowers  are  now  clinging,  and  on  closer  observation  we  perceive 
that  the  castle  in  the  air,  apparently  so  real,  has  only  a  white  cloud 
for  its  foundation,  and  that  ere  long  the  stream  makes  a  sudden  turn, 
rushing  with  the  fury  of  a  maddened  steed  down  a  terrible  ravine. 
The  moral  of  the  picture  it  is  needless  to  elucidate. 

Another  change,  and  lo !  the  verge  of  a  cataract  and  a  fearful  storm. 
The  rudderless  bark  is  just  about  to  plunge  into  the  abyss  below, 
while  the  voyager  (now  in  the  prime  of  manhood)  is  imploring  the 
only  aid  that  can  avail  him  in  the  trying  hour,  that  of  heaven. 
Demoniacal  images  are  holding  forth  their  temptations  in  the  clouds 
around  him,  but  he  heeds  them  not.  His  confidence  in  God  supports 
him,  the  previous  agony  of  his  soul  is  dispelled  or  subdued,  by  a  re 
flection  of  immortal  light  stealing  through  the  storm,  and  by  the  smiles 
of  his  guardian  angel,  visibly  stationed  in  the  far-off  sky. 

The  Voyage  of  Life  is  ended,  and  our  voyager,  now  white  with 
hoary  hairs,  has  reached  that  point  where  the  waters  of  time  and 
eternity  mingle  together — a  bold  conception,  which  is  finely  embodied 
by  the  daring  genius  of  the  painter.  The  hour-glass  is  gone,  and  the 
shattered  bark  is  ready  to  dissolve  into  the  fathomless  waters  beneath. 
The  old  man  is  on  his  knees,  with  clasped  hands  and  his  eyes  turned 
heavenward,  for  the  greenness  of  earth  is  forever  departed,  and  a  gloom 
is  upon  the  ocean  of  eternity.  But  just  above  the  form  of  our  good 
voyager  is  hovering  his  angel,  who  is  about  to  transport  him  to  his 
home ;  and,  as  the  eye  wanders  upward,  an  infinite  host  of  heavenly 
ministers  are  seen  ascending  and  descending  the  cloudy  steps  which 
lead  to  the  bosom  of  God.  Death  is  swallowed  up  in  life,  the  glory  of 
heaven  has  eclipsed  that  of  the  earth,  and  our  voyager  is  safe  in  the 
haven  of  eternal  rest.  And  thus  endeth  the  allegory  of  Human  Life. 

With  regard  to  the  mechanical  execution  of  these  paintings,  we  con 
sider  them  not  equal  to  some  of  the  earlier  efforts  of  the  same  pencil. 
They  are  deficient  in  atmosphere,  and  have  too  much  the  appearance 
of  paint.     The  water  in  the  first,  second,  and  third  pictures  is  superior, 
14 


158  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

but  the  perspective  and  atmosphere  in  the  second  are  masterly.  In 
all  of  them  the  figures  are  very  fine,  considering  the  difficulty  of  man 
aging  such  peculiar  characters.  In  the  first  we  are  pleased  with  the 
simplicity  of  the  composition  :  in  the  second,  with  the  variety,  there 
being  portrayed  the  elm  of  England,  the  plains  of  Tuscany,  the  palm 
of  tropic  climes,  the  mountains  of  Switzerland,  and  the  oak  of  America; 
in  the  third,  with  the  genius  displayed  in  using  the  very  storm  to  tell 
a  story;  and  in  the  fourth,  with  the  management  of  the  shadows,  and 
the  apparent  reality  of  the  light  from  heaven.  These  pictures  were 
painted  for  the  late  Samuel  Ward  of  New  York  city,  and  the  price 
received  for  them  was  six  thousand  dollars.  During  the  last  year, 
however,  they  were  purchased  by  the  American  Art  Union,  and  dis 
tributed  among  the  prizes  at  their  annual  lottery  in  December. 

Duplicates  of  the  above  paintings  were  executed  by  Cole,  and  sold 
to  a  gentleman  in  Cincinnati  in  the  year  1846. 

The  last,  and  in  many  respects  the  most  impressive,  of  Cole's  more 
ambitious  productions,  is  a  series  of  five  pictures  entitled  The  Cross 
and  the  World.  The  designs  or  studies  for  these  pictures  were  all 
executed,  but  owing  to  the  untimely  death  of  the  artist,  only  two  out 
of  the  five  were  ever  finished  on  a  large  scale.  This  series  of  pictures 
constitutes  a  Christian  poem  of  a  high  order,  and  in  describing  them, 
we  shall  employ  the  language  of  the  artist's  friend  Noble,  who  has 
probably  studied  the  entire  work  more  thoroughly  than  any  other  man. 
The  idea  is  that  two  youths  enter  upon  a  pilgrimage — one  to  the 
cross  and  the  other  to  the  world. 

In  the  first  picture  the  eye  of  the  beholder  first  strikes  the  bold 
termination  of  a  chain  of  mountains,  with  craggy  peaks  lost  in  the 
clouds. 

The  same  lofty  range  is  seen  through  the  entire  series. 

To  the  left,  a  straight  and  narrow  path  takes  its  way  up  a  rugged 
gorge,  down  which  there  beams  a  silvery  light  from  a  bright  cross  in 
the  sky.  The  path  at  first  leads  off  through  fields  of  real  flowers,  be 
tokening  the  early  part  of  the  Christian  life,  neither  difficult  nor  unin 
viting.  In  the  distance  a  dark  mist,  hovering  over  the  track,  conceals 
from  the  advancing  wayfarer  the  real  difficulties  of  his  journey,  and 
betokens  the  sorrows  which  of  necessity  befall  him.  To  the  right,  a 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  159 

gracefully  winding  way  leads  down  into  a  gently  undulating  and 
pleasant  vale.  Stretching  forward  through  delightful  landscapes,  it 
finally  fades  away,  and  leaves  the  eye  to  wander  on  to  the  dim  pinna 
cles  and  domes  of  a  great  city.  A  golden  light  falls  through  an  atmo 
sphere  of  repose,  and  lends  warmth,  softness,  and  beauty,  as  well  to 
crag  and  precipice  as  to  the  rich  valley.  By-paths,  serpent-like,  steal 
up  upon  the  sunny  slopes  of  the  mountain,  inviting  the  traveler  to 
the  enjoyment  of  the  prospect  and  the  coolness  of  the  waterfall. 

Vegetation  of  unnatural  growth,  and  gorgeous  and  unreal  flowers 
skirt  the  borders  of  the  way. 

At  the  foot  of  the  mountain  stands  Evangelist  with  the  open  Gos 
pel.  A  little  in  advance  are  the  waters,  symbolical  of  Baptism. 

Two  youths,  companions  in  the  travel  of  life,  having  come  to  the 
parting  of  their  road,  are  affectionately  and  earnestly  directed  to  the 
shining  cross.  While  one,  through  the  power  of  truth,  enters  with 
timid  steps  upon  his  holy  pilgrimage,  the  other,  caught  by  the  enchant 
ment  of  the  earthly  prospect,  turns  his  back  upon  Evangelist  and  the 
Cross,  and  speeds  forward  upon  the  pathway  of  the  world. 

In  the  second  picture  we  have  a  wild  mountain  region  now  opening 
upon  the  beholder.  It  is  an  hour  of  tempest.  Black  clouds  envelop 
the  surrounding  summits.  A  swollen  torrent  rushes  by,  and  plunges 
into  the  abyss.  The  storm,  sweeping  down  through  terrific  chasms, 
flings  aside  the  angry  cataract,  and  deepens  the  horror  of  the  scene  below. 
The  pilgrim,  now  in  the  vigor  of  manhood,  pursues  his  way  on  the 
edge  of  a  frightful  precipice.  It  is  a  moment  of  imminent  danger. 
But  gleams  of  light  from  the  shining  cross  break  through  the  storm, 
and  shed  fresh  brightness  along  his  perilous  and  narrow  path.  With 
steadfast  look,  and  renewed  courage,  the  lone  traveler  holds  on  his 
heavenly  pilgrimage. 

The  whole  symbolizes  the  trials  of  faith. 

In  the  third  picture  the  beholder  looks  off  upon  an  expanse  of  tran 
quil  water.  On  the  right  are  the  gardens  of  pleasure,  where  the 
devotees  of  sensual  delights  revel  in  all  that  satiates  and  amuses. 
Near  a  fountain,  whose  falling  waters  lull  with  perpetual  murmurs, 
stands  a  statue  of  the  goddess  of  Love.  An  interminable  arcade,  with 
odorous  airs  and  delicious  shade,  invites  to  the  quiet  depths  of  a  wil- 


160  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

derness  of  greenery  and  flowers.  A  gay  throng  dances  upon  the 
yielding  turf,  around  a  tree,  to  the  sound  of  lively  music.  Near  an 
image  of  Bacchus,  a  company  enjoys  a  luxurious  banquet. 

On  the  left  is  the  Temple  of  Mammon,  a  superb  and  costly  struc 
ture,  surmounted  by  the  wheel  of  Fortune.  Beneath  its  dome,  a  curi 
ously-wrought  fountain  throws  out  showers  of  gold,  which  is  eagerly 
caught  up  by  the  votaries  below. 

From  the  great  censers,  rising  here  and  there  above  the  heads  of 
the  multitude,  clouds  of  incense  roll  up  and  wreath  the  columns  of  the 
temple — a  grateful  odor  to  the  Grod.  The  trees  and  shrubbery  of  the 
adjacent  grounds  are  laden  with  golden  fruit. 

Far  distant,  in  the  middle  of  the  picture,  a  vision  of  earthly  power  and 
glory  rises  upon  the  view.  Splendid  trophies  of  conquest  adorn  the 
imposing  gateway ;  suits  of  armor,  gorgeous  banners,  and  the  victor's 
wreath.  Colonnades  and  piles  of  architecture  stretch  away  in  the  vast 
perspective.  At  the  summit  of  a  lofty  flight  of  steps  stand  conspic 
uous  the  throne  and  the  sceptre.  Suspended  in  the  air,  at  the  highest 
point  of  human  reach,  is  that  glittering  symbol  of  royalty,  the  crown. 
Between  the  beholder  and  this  grand  spectacle  are  the  armies  in  con 
flict,  and  a  city  in  flames,  indicating  that  the  path  to  glory  lies  through 
ruin  and  the  battle-field.  To  the  contemplation  of  this  alluring  scene 
the  Pilgrim  of  the  World,  now  in  the  morning  of  manhood,  is  intro 
duced.  Which  of  the  fascinating  objects  before  him  is  the  one  of  his 
choice,  is  left  to  the  imagination  of  the  spectator.  The  picture  sym 
bolizes  the  pleasure,  the  fortune,  and  the  glory  of  the  world. 

In  the  fourth  picture,  the  pilgrim,  now  an  old  man  on  the  verge  of 
existence,  catches  a  first  view  of  the  boundless  and  eternal.  The  tem 
pests  of  life  are  behind  him  ;  the  world  is  beneath  his  feet.  Its  rocky 
pinnacles,  just  rising  through  the  gloom,  reach  not  up  into  his 
brightness ;  its  sudden  mists,  pausing  in  the  dark  obscurity,  ascend  no 
more  into  his  serene  atmosphere.  He  looks  out  upon  the  infinite. 
Clouds — embodiments  of  glory,  threading  immensity  in  countless 
lines,  rolling  up  from  everlasting  depths — carry  the  vision  forward 
toward  the  unapproachable  light.  The  Cross,  now  fully  revealed, 
pours  its  effulgence  over  the  illimitable  scene.  Angels  from  the 
presence,  with  palm  and  crown  of  immortality,  appear  in  the  dis- 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


161 


tance,  and  advance  to  meet  him.     Lost  in  rapture  at  the  sight,  the 
pilgrim  drops  his  staff,,  and  with  uplifted  hands,  sinks  upon  his  knees. 

In  the  last  picture,  desolate  and  broken,  the  pilgrim,  descending  a 
gloomy  vale,  pauses  at  last  on  the  horrid  brink  that  overhangs  the 
outer  darkness.  Columns  of  the  Temple  of  Mammon  crumble  ;  trees 
of  the  gardens  of  pleasure  moulder  on  his  path.  Gold  is  as  value 
less  as  the  dust  with  which  it  mingles.  The  phantom  of  glory — a 
baseless,  hollow  fabric — flits  under  the  wing  of  death  to  vanish  in  a 
dark  eternity.  Demon  forms  are  gathering  around  him.  Horror- 
struck,  the  pilgrim  lets  fall  his  staff,  and  turns  in  despair  to  the  long- 
neglected  and  forgotten  Cross.  Veiled  in  melancholy  night,  behind  a 
peak  of  the  mountain,  it  is  lost  to  his  view  forever. 

The  above  pictures  are  in  the  possession  of  the  artist's  family.  We  did 
think  of  describing  at  length  all  the  imaginative  productions  of  our 
great  master  in  landscape,  but  upon  further  reflection  we  have  con 
cluded  merely  to  record  their  titles,  by  way  of  giving  our  readers  an 
idea  of  the  versatility  of  Cole's  genius.  They  are  as  follows: — The 
Departure  and  Return,  which  is  a  poetical  representation  of  the  Feud 
al  Times,  The  Cross  in  the  Wilderness,  II  Penseroso,  U  Allegro,  The 
Past  and  Present,  The  Architect's  Dream,  Dream  of  Arcadia,  The 
Expulsion  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  Prometheus  Bound.  As  the  last 
mentioned  picture  is  owned  in  England,  and  is  unquestionably  one  of 
the  wildest  and  most  splendid  efforts  of  the  painter's  pencil,  we  cannot 
refrain  from  a  brief  description.  The  scene  represented  is  among  the 
snow-covered  peaks  of  a  savage  mountain  land,  and  to  the  loftiest 
peak  of  all,  is  chained  the  being  who  gives  the  picture  a  name.  Im 
mediately  in  the  foreground,  is  a  pile  of  rocks  and  broken  trees,  which 
give  a  fine  effect  to  the  distant  landscape,  while,  just  above  this  fore 
ground,  is  a  solitary  vulture  slowly  ascending  to  the  upper  air,  to  feast 
upon  its  victim.  The  idea  of  leaving  the  devouring  scene  to  the  ima 
gination,  could  only  have  been  conceived  by  the  mind  of  the  most  ac 
complished  artist.  The  time  represented  is  early  morning — and  the 
cold  blue  ocean  of  the  sky  is  studded  with  one  brilliant  star,  which 
represents  Jupiter,  by  whose  order  Prometheus  was  chained  to  the 
everlasting  rock. 

14* 


162  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  truly  sublime  pictures  we  have  ever  seen, 
and  possesses  all  the  qualities  which  constitute  an  epic  production. 
The  unity  of  the  design  is  admirable — one  figure,  one  prominent 
mountain,  a  cloudless  sky,  one  lonely  star,  one  representative  of  the 
feathery  tribes,  and  one  cluster  of  rocks  for  the  foreground — and  it  is 
also  completely  covered  with  an  atmosphere  which  gives  every  object 
before  us  a  dreamy  appearance.  In  point  of  execution  we  cannot 
possibly  find  a  fault  with  this  glorious  picture,  and  we  do  not  believe 
that  the  idea  of  the  poet  was  ever  better  illustrated  by  any  landscape 
painter. 

With  regard  to  the  actual  views  and  other  less  ambitious  produc 
tions  of  Cole,  we  can  only  say  that  the  entire  number  might  be  esti 
mated  at  about  one  hundred.  The  majority  of  them  are  illustrative 
of  European  scenery,  but  of  those  which  are  truly  American,  it  may 
be  said  that  they  give  a  more  correct  and  comprehensive  idea  of  our 
glorious  scenery,  than  do  the  productions  of  any  other  American  artist. 
In  looking  upon  his  better  pictures  of  American  scenery  we  forget  the 
pent-up  city,  and  our  hearts  flutter  with  a  joy  allied  to  that  which  we 
may  suppose  animates  the  woodland  bird,  when  listening  in  its  soli 
tude  to  the  hum  of  the  wilderness.  Perpetual  freedom,  perpetual  and 
unalloyed  happiness,  seem  to  breathe  from  every  object  which  he  por 
trays,  and  as  the  eye  wanders  along  the  mountain  declivities,  or  mounts 
still  farther  up  on  the  chariot-looking  clouds,  as  we  peer  into  the  trans 
lucent  waters  of  his  lakes  and  streams,  or  witness  the  solemn  grandeur 
and  gloom  of  his  forests,  we  cannot  but  wonder  at  the  marvelous 
power  of  genius.  The  style  of  our  artist  is  bold  and  masterly.  While 
he  did  not  condescend  to  delineate  every  leaf  and  sprig  which  may  be 
found  in  nature,  yet  he  gave  you  the  spirit  of  the  scene.  To  do  this 
is  the  province  of  genius,  and  an  attainment  beyond  the  reach  of  mere 
talent.  The  productions  of  Cole  appeal  to  the  intellect  more  than  to 
the  heart,  and  we  should  imagine  that  Milton  was  his  favorite  poet. 
He  loved  the  uncommon  efforts  in  nature,  and  was  constantly  giving 
birth  to  new  ideas.  He  had  a  passion  for  the  wild  and  tempestuous, 
and  possessed  an  imagination  of  the  highest  order.  He  was  also  a 
lover  of  the  beautiful,  and  occasionally  executed  a  picture  full  of  quiet 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  163 

summer-like  sentiment :  but  his  joy  was  to  depict  the  scenery  of  our 
mountain  land,  when  clothed  in  the  rich  garniture  of  autumn.  He 
was  the  originator  of  a  new  style,  and  is  now  a  most  worthy  member 
of  that  famous  brotherhood  of  immortals  whom  we  remember  by  the 
names  of  Lorraine,  Poussin,  Rosa,  Wilson,  and  Gainsborough. 

The  name  of  Cole  is  one  which  his  countrymen  should  not  willingly 
let  die.  A  man  of  fine,  exalted  genius,  by  his  pencil  he  has  accom 
plished  much  good,  not  only  to  his  chosen  art,  by  becoming  one  of  its 
masters,  but  eminently  so  in  a  moral  point  of  view.  And  this  re 
minds  us  of  the  influences  which  may  be  exerted  by  the  landscape 
painter.  That  these  are  of  importance  no  one  can  deny.  Is  not 
painting  as  well  the  expression  of  thought  as  writing  ?  With  his  pen 
cil,  if  he  is  a  wise  and  good  man,  the  artist  may  portray,  to  every  eye 
that  rests  upon  his  canvass,  the  loveliness  of  virtue  and  religion,  or 
the  deformity  and  wretchedness  of  a  vicious  life.  He  may  warn  the 
worldling  of  his  folly  and  impending  doom,  and  encourage  the  Christ 
ian  in  his  pilgrimage  to  heaven.  He  may  delineate  the  marvelous 
beauty  of  nature,  so  as  to  lead  the  mind  upward  to  its  Creator,  or  pro 
claim  the  ravages  of  time,  that  we  may  take  heed  to  our  ways  and  pre 
pare  ourselves  for  a  safe  departure  from  this  world,  into  that  beyond 
the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death.  A  goodly  portion  of  all  these 
things  have  been  accomplished  by  Thomas  Cole.  As  yet,  he  is  the  only 
landscape  painter  in  this  country  who  has  attempted  imaginative  paint 
ing,  and  the  success  which  has  followed  him  in  his  career,  even  in  a 
pecuniary  point  of  view,  affords  great  encouragement  to  our  younger 
painters  in  this  department  of  the  art.  He  has  set  a  noble  example, 
which  ought  to  be  extensively  followed.  Observe,  we  do  not  mean 
by  this  that  his  subjects  ought  to  be  imitated.  Far  from  it ;  because 
they  are  not  stamped  with  as  decided  a  national  character,  as  the  pro- 
productions  of  all  painters  should  be.  Excepting  his  actual  views  of 
American  scenery,  the  paintings  of  Cole  might  have  been  produced 
had  he  never  set  foot  upon  our  soil.  Let  our  young  artists  aspire  to 
something  above  a  mere  copy  of  nature,  or  even  a  picture  of  the  fancy; 
let  them  paint  the  visions  of  their  imagination.  No  other  country  ever 
offered  such  advantages  as  our  own.  Let  our  young  painters  use  their 
pencils  to  illustrate  the  thousand  scenes,  strange,  wild,  and  beautiful, 


164  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

of  our  early  history.  Let  them  aim  high,  and  their  achievements  will 
be  distinguished.  Let  them  remember  that  theirs  is  a  noble  destiny. 
What  though  ancient  wisdom  and  modern  poetry  have  told  us  that 
"  art  is  long  and  time  is  fleeting!" — let  them  toil  and  persevere  with 
nature  as  their  guide;  and  they  will  assuredly  have  their  reward. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  165 


POVERTY.* 

And  wherefore  do  the  poor  complain1? 

The  rich  man  asked  of  me : 
Come  walk  abroad  with  me,  I  said, 

And  I  will  answer  thee. 

SOTJTHET. 

ATTENDED  by  police  officers,  we  once  paid  a  visit  to  a  building  called 
the  Old  Brewery,  which  infests  the  city  of  New  York  as  does  a  cancer 
the  bosom  of  a  splendid  woman.  At  the  time  in  question,  it  was  a 
very  large  and  rickety  affair,  and  the  home  of  about  eighty  pauper 
families;  and  we  verily  believe  contained  more  unalloyed  suffering 
than  could  have  been  found  in  any  other  building  in  the  United 
States.  It  belonged  to  the  city,  and  was  rented  by  a  woman,  who,  in 
her  turn,  rented  it  out  by  piecemeal  to  the  paupers.  For  many  years 
it  was  a  dram  shop  or  a  college  for  the  education  of  drunkards,  and  it 
is  now  the  comfortless  hospital  or  dying-place  of  those  drunkards  and 
their  descendants.  We  visited  this  spot  at  midnight,  and  were  lighted 
on  our  way  by  torches  which  we  carried  in  our  hands. 

Having  passed  through  a  place  called  Murderer's  Alley  (on  account 
of  the  many  murders  committed  there),  our  leading  officer  bolted  into 
a  room,  where  was  presented  the  following  spectacle.  The  room  itself 
was  more  filthy  than  a  sty.  In  the  fireplace  were  a  few  burning  em 
bers,  above  which  hung  a  kettle,  tended  by  a  woman  and  her  daughter. 
It  contained  a  single  cabbage,  and  was  all  they  had  to  eat,  and  the 
woman  told  us  she  had  not  tasted  food  for  twenty-four  hours.  The 
wretched  being,  it  appears,  had  been  engaged  in  a  fight  with  some 
brute  of  a  man,  who  had  so  severely  bruised  her  face  that  one  whole 

*  The  unvarnished  facts  contained  in  this  article  were  picked  up  by  the 
writer  in  the  autumn  and  winter  of  1847,  while  he  had  charge  of  the  city  do- 
par  tment  of  the  New  York  Daily  Express. 


166  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

side  was  literally  black  and  blue.  We  asked  her  some  questions  and 
alluded  to  her  young  daughter.  She  replied  to  our  inquiries,  and  then 
burst  into  tears,  and  wept  as  if  her  heart  was  broken.  The  only  com 
ment  which  the  daughter  made  was,  "  Mother,  what  are  you  crying 
about  ?  Don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself.  Tears  will  not  wipe  away 
God's  curse."  The  couch  to  which  this  pair  of  women  were  to  retire 
after  their  midnight  meal,  was  a  pallet  of  straw,  wet  with  liquid  mud 
that  came  oozing  through  the  stone  walls  of  the  subterranean  room. 
This  woman  told  us  that  her  husband  was  in  the  State  prison,  and  that 
she  was  the  mother  of  seven  daughters,  all  of  whom  but  the  one  pre 
sent  had  died  in  girlhood,  utterly  abandoned  to  every  vice.  (l  Yes," 
added  the  woman,  t{  and  I  hope  that  me  and  my  Mary  will  soon  join 
them  j  there  can  be  no  worse  hell  than  the  one  we  are  enduring." 
She  mourned  over  her  unhappy  fate,  and  looked  upon  vice  as  a  matter 
of  necessity — for  they  could  not  starve. 

In  the  next  room  that  we  entered,  on  a  litter  of  straw,  and  with 
hardly  any  covering  upon  them,  lay  a  man  and  his  wife,  the  former 
suffering  with  asthma  and  the  latter  in  the  last  stages  of  consumption. 
Covered  as  they  were  with  the  most  filthy  rags,  they  looked  more  like 
reptiles  than  human  beings.  In  another  corner  of  the  same  room, 
upon  a  wooden  box,  sat  a  young  woman  with  a  child  on  her  lap ;  the 
former  possessing  a  pale  and  intellectual  countenance,  while  the  latter 
was  a  mere  skeleton.  The  woman  uttered  not  a  word  while  we  were 
present,  but  seemed  to  be  musing  in  silent  despair.  Her  history  and 
very  name  were  unknown,  but  her  silence  and  the  vacant  stare  of  her 
passionless  eyes  spoke  of  unutterable  sorrow.  She  was  the  "  queen  of 
a  fantastic  realm." 

Another  room  that  we  entered  contained  no  less  than  five  families, 
and  in  one  corner  was  a  woman  in  the  agonies  of  death,  while  at  her 
side  sat  a  miserable  dog,  howling  a  requiem  over  the  dying  wretch. 
In  another  corner  lay  the  helpless  form  of  a  boy,  about  ten  years  of 
age,  who  was  afflicted  with  the  small-pox,  and  had  been  abandoned  to 
his  miserable  fate.  He  had  rolled  off  the  straw,  and  his  cheek  rested 
upon  the  wet  floor,  which  was  black  with  filth.  All  the  rooms  we 
visited  were  pretty  much  alike,  crowded  with  human  beings,  but  there 
were  particular  ones  which  attracted  our  attention.  The  faded  beauty 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  167 

and  yet  brilliant  eye  of  one  woman  attracted  our  notice,  and  we  were 
informed  that  it  was  only  about  two  years  ago  that  she  was  performing 
Juliet  at  one  of  the  principal  theatres  to  the  delight  of  thousands. 
She  is  now  an  outcast,  and  her  only  possession  is  a  ragged  calico  gown. 
In  another  room  we  noticed  the  living  remains  of  a  German  philoso 
pher,  who  was  once  a  preacher,  then  a  professor  in  the  Berlin  and 
Halle  Universities,  an  author,  a  rationalist,  a  doctor  of  philosophy,  and 
now  a — pauper.  He  came  to  this  country  about  three  years  ago,  sup 
posing  that  his  learning  would  here  find  a  ready  market.  This  man  is 
master  of  the  Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin,  French,  and  German  languages, 
and  yet  a  bitter  reviler  of  the  Christian  religion  !  He  was  brought  to 
his  present  state  by  the  united  influences  of  his  infidel  principles  and 
the  wine  cup. 

In  one  room  we  saw  a  husband  and  his  wife  with  three  children, 
sound  asleep  on  a  bed  of  shavings,  and  the  furniture  thereof  consisted 
of  only  a  pine  box,  a  wooden  bowl  (partly  filled  with  meal),  and  a  tea 
cup,  while  on  the  hearth  of  the  empty  fireplace  were  scattered  a  few 
meatless  bones.  In  another  we  saw  a  woman  in  a  state  of  gross  in 
toxication,  whose  child,  wrapped  in  rags,  was  lying  on  a  bed  of  warm 
ashes  in  one  corner  of  the  fireplace.  In  one  room  a  lot  of  half-clothed 
negroes  were  fighting  like  hyenas ;  and  in  another  a  forlorn  old  man 
was  suffering  with  delirium  tremens.  In  another,  still,  the  fireplace 
was  destitute  of  fire  and  the  hearth  of  wood.  On  the  floor  were  three 
litters  of  straw  ;  on  one  lay  the  corpse  of  a  woman  and  a  dead  infant, 
and  another  child  about  three  years  of  age,  which  had  no  covering 
upon  its  shivering  body  except  the  fragments  of  an  old  cloak.  On 
one  pile  of  straw  lay  a  middle-aged  man  apparently  breathing  his  last; 
and  in  the  opposite  corner  was  seated  a  drunken  woman,  a  stranger  to 
the  dead  and  dying,  who  was  calling  down  curses  upon  the  head  of  her 
husband,  who  had  abandoned  her  to  her  misery.  As  we  rambled  about 
the  old  building,  peering  into  the  dark  rooms  of  poverty  and  infamy, 
we  were  forcibly  reminded  of  Dante's  description  of  hell.  The  ma 
jority  of  women  that  we  saw  were  widows,  and  we  were  informed  that 
the  rent  they  paid  varied  from  two  to  six  shillings  per  week.  Our 
guide,  before  leaving,  directed  our  attention  to  the  back  yard,  where, 
within  the  last  two  years,  twenty  people  had  been  found  dead.  Their 


168  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

histories  yet  remain  in  mystery,  and  we  were  told  of  the  singular  fact 
that  a  funeral  had  not  been  known  to  occur  at  the  Old  Brewery  for 
many  years,  as  it  has  ever  been  a  market-place  for  anatomists  and  their 
menials. 

On  giving  the  readers  of  the  Express  some  of  the  above  facts,  a 
number  of  benevolent  individuals  remitted  to  us  quite  a  large  amount 
of  money  for  the  inmates  of  the  Brewery.  One  lady  (G-od  bless  the 
Christian!)  sent  us  no  less  than  ten  dollars.  In  fulfilling  our  obligations 
to  these  charitable  friends,  we  purchased  clothing,  bread,  pork,  fish, 
and  vegetables,  and,  assisted  by  a  couple  of  servants,  took  another 
walk  over  the  mansion  of  suffering.  As  we  went  in  the  day  time,  we 
expected  to  see  less  misery  than  we  did  on  our  former  visits,  but  were 
sadly  disappointed.  We  entered  several  new  rooms  and  saw  new  pic 
tures  of  distress.  In  one  was  a  very  old  negro,  sitting  in  his  desolate 
chimney  corner,  with  no  clothing  on  his  person  but  a  pair  of  panta 
loons;  he  was  afflicted  with  the  asthma  and  shivering  with  cold, 
while  his  poor  wife  was  weeping  over  their  wretched  condition. 
When  we  supplied  the  latter  with  food,  we  thought  the  overjoyed 
being  would  actually  clasp  me  in  her  arms.  On  entering  another 
room,  we  discovered  a  mass  of  rags  in  one  corner,  where  lay  an  elderly 
woman  who  had  lost  the  use  of  her  limbs,  and  had  not  been  able  to 
move  from  her  couch  of  shavings  for  upwards  of  two  months.  She 
was  evidently  the  victim  of  consumption,  and  not  far  from  the  gate 
way  to  the  grave.  Her  only  attendant  was  a  kindly-disposed  woman 
who  had  the  dropsy.  When  we  gave  her  some  food,  she  actually 
wept  tears  of  gratitude,  and  begged  me  to  accept  a  rug,  which  she 
had  made  of  rags,  probably  picked  up  in  the  street.  In  another  room, 
before  an  expiring  fire,  sat  a  sickly-looking  girl,  about  ten  years  of 
age,  holding  in  her  arms  a  little  babe,  and  the  countenances  of  both 
were  deeply  furrowed  by  premature  suffering.  Her  story  was  that 
her  mother  had  been  dead  about  a  month,  and  she  knew  not  the 
fate  of  her  father,  who  had  been  arrested  for  stealing  some  two  weeks 
before.  She  obtained  her  living  by  begging,  and  when  too  feeble  to 
carry  her  infant  sister  in  the  street,  was  in  the  habit  of  leaving  it  in 
her  room  under  the  protection  of  a  miserable  dog,  to  which  she 
directed  my  attention.  We  gave  this  sadly  unfortunate  girl  a  large 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  169 

supply  of  food,  and  was  sorely  grieved  that  it  was  not  in  our  power 
to  take  her  from  her  cheerless  dwelling  place  to  some  other  home, 
where  she  might  be  fed,  clothed,  and  instructed.  The  act  of  adopting 
such  a  child  would  cover  a  multitude  of  sins.  The  condition  of  Mr. 
Dickens's  fancy  child  "  Little  Nell"  was  real  happiness  compared  to 
the  condition  of  this  living  and  yet  dying  orphan.  God  have  mercy 
upon  the  innocent  poor  ! 

Another  room  into  which  we  entered  was  completely  crowded  with 
human  beings.  On  one  bed  of  rags  and  straw  lay  a  woman  who  was 
so  very  ill  that  she  could  not  speak,  and  her  only  covering,  strange  as 
it  may  seem,  was  a  tattered  American  flag.  She  was  a  stranger  to 
all  her  companions,  but  supposed  to  be  the  wife  of  a  sailor,  who  had 
died  some  months  before.  Immediately  in  front  of  the  fireplace, 
lying  on  her  side,  was  a  colored  woman  moaning  with  the  rheumatism, 
and  in  her  immediate  vicinity  was  her  husband,  suffering  intensely 
with  a  cold.  Here  sat  an  Irish  woman  on  a  chest,  holding  an  infant 
in  her  arms  j  she  was  singing  a  lullaby,  and  yet  she  told  me  that  she 
had  not  eaten  a  hearty  meal  for  many  weeks.  There,  lying  in  his 
corner,  was  a  middle  aged  man,  confined  to  the  floor  by  an  ulcerated 
knee,  and  he  had  in  charge  a  feeble  babe,  which  had  never  been 
blessed  with  even  a  calico  dress — it  was  not  only  naked,  but  a  cripple 
from  its  birth.  The  wife  of  this  man  was  dead,  and  those  were  her 
dying  groans  which  chilled  my  blood  with  horror  when  we  made  a 
nocturnal  visit  to  this  miserable  abode.  His  only  helper  in  his  hour 
of  great  need  was  a  puny  boy,  about  seven  years  old,  who  seemed  to 
be  an  idiot.  The  appearance  of  this  child  we  cannot  possibly  de 
scribe.  The  happiest  individual  in  this  room  was  a  colored  man,  who 
appeared  to  be  in  good  health,  but  he  crawled  about  on  crutches,  for  he 
had  lost  both  his  legs.  He  seemed  to  be  an  exceedingly  worthy  and 
amiable  man,  and  we  were  lavish  in  our  gifts  to  him  and  those  in 
whom  he  was  interested. 

But  enough,  enough.  There  can  be  no  use  in  continuing  this 
painful  record.  We  would  assure  our  readers,  however,  that  we  have 
only  sketched  a  small  portion  of  the  unimagined  misery  which  lately 
existed  and  still  exists  in  the  Old  Brewery.  The  spectacles  we  have 
witnessed  there  excel  the  most  extravagant  flights  of  fancy ;  we  have 
15 


170  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

never  read  the  book  which  contained  pictures  of  such  complete  and 
hopeless  misery.  We  have  told  a  simple  tale  of  truth;  contributed  our 
pittance,  and  it  now  remains  for  the  opulent  of  the  great  metropolis 
and  the  rulers  thereof  to  do  their  duty.  Is  it  right  that  such  a  build 
ing  as  the  Old  Brewery  should  be  suffered  to  exist  within  a  stone's 
throw  of  the  City  Hall  ?  Is  it  right  that  the  "  hell  hounds"  (we  now 
allude  to  a  fact)  should  be  permitted  by  the  authorities  to  sell  their 
poisons  under  the  same  roof  where  hundreds  of  people  are  dying  from 
starvation,  brought  upon  them  by  their  own  folly  and  those  very 
dram  shops  ?  We  would  not  make  an  issue  upon  the  license  ques 
tion  ;  but,  we  ask,  is  it  right,  is  it  humane,  to  allow  this  state  of 
things  ?  If  the  aged  in  iniquity  cannot  be  reclaimed,  ought  not  some 
thing  to  be  done  to  save  the  children  of  the  Old  Brewery — the  inno 
cent,  laughter-loving  children,  from  spending  their  days  in  misery  ? 
If  nothing  else  can  be  done,  it  would  be  a  mercy  to  fire  that  abode  of 
suffering,  even  though  every  soul  within  its  walls  should  perish  in  the 
flames ;  the  wail  of  agony  would  indeed  be  dreadful,  but  it  would  be 
of  short  duration.  Why  will  not  the  superb  city  of  New  York  wipe 
from  her  bosom  this  lump  of  leprosy,  which  is  now  preying  upon  her 
vitals  ?  Can  the  rich  now  understand  why  it  is  that  the  poor  complain  ? 


An  Irishman,  his  wife,  and  two  children  were  brought  to  the  alms- 
house  in  a  complete  state  of  starvation.  They  landed  in  the  city  from 
an  emigrant  ship,  and  had  not  tasted  food  for  several  days.  The  mo 
ther  was  wellnigh  a  perfect  skeleton,  and  the  sunken  cheeks  and  eyes 
of  the  whole  family  told  the  melancholy  truth  that  they  were  the 
victims  of  the  most  intense  suffering.  One  of  the  children  was  so  near 
dead  that  it  could  not  walk,  whilst  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty 
that  even  the  father  could  totter  over  the  floor.  They  were  as  nearly 
dead  as  it  is  possible  for  the  living  to  be,  and  want  of  food  was  the 
principal  cause  which  had  brought  them  to  this  miserable  state.  In 
answer  to  all  questions  asked  them,  their  replies  were,  "We  want  some 
bread  ]  do  give  us  some  bread ;  we  will  die  if  you  do  not  give  us  some 
bread."  As  a  matter  of  course  their  wants  were  immediately  supplied, 
but  the  utmost  caution  was  necessary  in  administering  food.  When 
they  were  seated  at  the  table,  the  first  thing  the  mother  did  was  to 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  171 

feed  her  youngest  child.  In  doing  this  she  took  not  the  least  notice 
of  herself,  but  uttered  a  strange  wild  laugh ;  and,  when  the  child  was 
made  quite  sick  by  even  a  spoonful  of  rice,  the  mother  wept  most 
bitterly,  and  said  :  "  Oh,  my  child  is  going  to  die  ! — what  shall  I  do 
to  save  its  darling  life  ?"  Four  days  afterwards  every  member  of 
this  exiled  family  had  passed  into  the  unknown  future. 

On  another  occasion  an  intemperate  woman  was  taken  to  the  alms- 
house,  ragged  and  reeling  at  the  time,  and  bearing  a  little  child,  sup 
posed  to  be  about  sixteen  months  old.  It  was  literally  a  skeleton, 
entirely  destitute  of  flesh,  a  mere  fragment  of  humanity.  The  smaller 
portions  of  its  arms  and  legs  were  not  more  than  half  an  inch  in  thick 
ness,  while  the  corners  of  its  mouth  were  drawn  down,  and  its  eyes  so 
deeply  sunken  that  it  had  the  appearance  of  an  old  and  decrepit  woman. 
Its  face  was  white  as  snow,  its -body  almost  as  cold,  and  wrinkles  upon 
its  cheek  and  brow  were  distinctly  marked ;  and  what  made  the  picture 
still  more  wretched  was  the  fact  that  the  poor  child  had  the  whooping 
cough  and  was  totally  Wind.  The  opinion  of  the  attending  physician 
was  that  the  child  had  been  famished.  On  questioning  the  mother 
about  her  offspring  it  was  ascertained  that  the  child  had  never  taken 
any  food  but  what  came  from  her  breast ;  its  condition  was  partly 
attributed  to  this  fact,  and  it  was  evident  that  all  its  sufferings  were 
inherited  from  its  mother;  that  it  had  been  a  drunkard  even  from  the 
hour  of  its  birth.  It  was  found  necessary  to  take  the  child  away  from 
its  mother;  but,  as  she  would  not  give  it  up,  she  was  taken  to  the 
Tombs,  and  at  midnight,  when  the  parent  was  in  'a  deep  sleep,  the 
child  was  taken  from  her  filthy  and  inflamed  bosom,  and  placed  in  the 
hands  of  a  careful  nurse.  The  weeping  and  wailing  of  that  forsaken 
mother,  on  the  following  morning,  were  terrible  in  the  extreme.  Her 
brain  was  on  fire,  and  at  the  setting  of  the  sun  she  was  numbered  with 
the  dead.  In  less  than  a  week  thereafter  the  pauper  child  had  fol 
lowed  its  mother  to  Potter's  Field. 

It  was  recorded  in  the  newspapers  that  the  dead  body  of  an  aged 
man  had  been  found,  tied  up  in  a  coffee  bag,  and  floating  in  the  East 
river.  His  throat  was  cut  from  ear  to  ear,  and  it  was  supposed  he 
had  been  murdered,  but  later  developments  explained  the  mystery. 


172  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

The  name  of  the  deceased  was  subsequently  ascertained;  he  belonged 
to  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  respectable  families  of  Connecticut,  and 
was  related  to  one  of  its  former  governors.  The  individual  in  ques 
tion  spent  the  morning  and  noon  of  his  life  in  the  lap  of  luxury  \  in  old 
age,  however,  his  wealth,  wife,  children,  and  nearly  all  his  kindred, 
were  taken  away  from  him,  and  he  became  a  man  acquainted  with 
many  sorrows.  Some  months  previous  to  the  time  when  his  body  was 
found,  and  while  actually  suffering  from  hunger,  it  so  happened  that 
he  entered  a  certain  dwelling  for  the  purpose  of  asking  alms.  The 
principal  inmate  of  that  dwelling  was  a  widow  who  had  once  been  on 
the  most  intimate  terms  with  the  family  of  the  beggar,  having  been 
born  in  the  same  town.  The  friends  of  other  days  recognized  each 
other,  a  long  conversation  ensued,  which  recalled  a  thousand  recollec 
tions  of  childhood,  and  they  were  very  happy.  The  only  thought 
which  oppressed  the  spirit  of  the  mendicant  was,  that  his  bones,  when 
he  came  to  die,  would  be  deposited  in  the  soil  of  strangers,  and  his 
only  prayer  was  that  he  might  be  buried  among  his  kindred.  His 
kind  friend  assured  him  that,  if  her  own  life  was  spared,  the  desire 
of  his  heart  should  be  fully  gratified. 

Weeks  passed  on,  and,  contrary  to  the  wishes  of  his  friend,  the  old 
man  became  an  inmate  of  the  almshouse.  In  process  of  time  the  sil 
ver  cord  of  the  pilgrim's  life  was  broken,  and  he  was  buried  in  the 
public  graveyard.  Subsequently  to  this  his  body  was  disinterred,  used 
for  purposes  of  dissection,  and  rudely  thrown  into  the  river.  In  the 
meanwhile  the  widow  had  sent  to  the  coroner  to  inquire  how  she 
might  obtain  the  pauper's  body,  as  she  wished  to  bury  him  elsewhere 
than  in  Potter's  Field,  but  she  could  meet  with  no  encouragement.  A 
number  of  days  was  the  man's  body  tossed  to  and  fro  in  the  East 
River,  but  by  the  hand  of  Providence  it  was  washed  ashore  and  given 
in  charge  to  the  coroner.  This  gentleman  suspected  that  the  deceased 
was  the  friend  of  the  widow  who  had  consulted  him  some  days  before, 
and  it  so  happened  that  his  suspicions  were  well  founded,  for  the  body 
in  due  time  was  recognized.  It  was  given  into  the  custody  of  the  good 
woman,  who  had  it  placed  in  a  decent  coffin,  and  the  aged  pauper  was 

buried  in  the  vault  of  the  W ,  in  Connecticut,  by  the  side  of  his 

wife  and  children.     It  is  indeed  a  fact  that  fiction  is  often  not  one-half 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  173 

so  strange  as  truth ;  and  it  is  also  certain  that  human  life  is  but  a 
dream,  and  the  ways  of  Grod  unsearchable. 


Beautiful  were  the  orphan  minstrels  of  whom  we  are  now  to  speak; 
beautiful  in  mind  and  heart.  The  party  was  composed  of  three  indi 
viduals,  two  sisters  and  a  little  brother,  the  eldest  of  whom  had  not 
yet  seen  her  thirteenth  summer.  Remarkable  singers  they  were  not, 
but  yet  there  was  something  wild  and  plaintive  in  their  voices  which 
cannot  easily  be  forgotten.  The  instruments  they  used,  however — the 
harp,  the  tamborin,  and  flute — were  uncommonly  musical,  and  played 
upon  with  facility  and  taste. 

We  became  acquainted  with  these  minstrels  in  this  wise.  They 
had  stopped  for  a  few  moments,  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  in 
the  hall  of  Rathbun's  hotel.  After  delighting  a  crowd  of  listeners,  and 
receiving  a  few  pennies,  they  courtesied  and  bowed,  and  then  contin 
ued  on  their  way.  We  had  an  hour's  leisure  at  the  time,  and  resolved 
as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  that  we  would  follow  the  children.  We  did 
so,  and  saw  them  enter  two  or  three  hotels,  where  they  performed  a 
number  of  pieces.  The  night  was  now  far  advanced,  and  they  turned 
Barclay  Street  on  their  way  home.  Onward  did  they  trip,  with  glad 
ness  in  their  hearts,  talking  together  in  the  French  tongue ;  and,  in  a 
few  moments  after,  we  saw  them  turn  down  Washington  street  into  an 
emigrant  boarding  house.  We  were  now  in  a  predicament,  and  afraid 
to  lose  our  game.  But  resolving  to  defend  our  conduct  by  inquiring 
after  some  imaginary  person,  we  bolted  into  the  house  and  followed 
the  children  up  two  flights  of  stairs.  They  entered  a  room  where 
were  seated  a  very  old  man  and  an  equally  old  woman.  The  meeting 
between  this  aged  pair  and  the  little  children  was  quite  touching,  for, 
when  the  money  was  counted  and  laid  away,  the  latter  were  rewarded 
by  a  loving  embrace.  Soon  as  this  scene  was  ended  we  made  our  ap 
pearance,  and  introduced  ourselves  by  asking  the  intended  question. 
This  having  been  promptly  and  politely  answered,  we  proceeded  a 
little  further  in  our  queries,  and  obtained  the  following  information  : 
The  senior  members  of  this  family  were  the  grandparents  of  the  chil 
dren,  and  their  only  relatives  in  the  world.  The  old  man  said  they 
were  all  natives  of  France;  that  they  had  been  in  this  country  four 

15* 


174  RECORD^  OF  A  TOURIST. 

months ;  and  that  their  only  support  was  derived  from  the  unwearied 
labors  of  the  minstrel  children.  As  the  old  man  told  his  story  his  eyes 
were  filled  with  tears;  he  was  mourning  over  his  own  helplessness, 
and  yet  rejoicing  over  the  living  blessings  of  his  old  age.  Having  apo 
logized  for  my  rudeness,  and  uttered  what  I  thought  would  be  a  word 
of  comfort,  we  bade  each  member  of  the  family  a  kind  good  night,  and 
left  them  to  obtain  the  repose  they  needed,  and  to  dream  perchance 
of  church  bells  ringing  in  one  of  the  beautiful  valleys  of  their  native 
land. 

We  happened  to  be  out  at  an  unusually  late  hour  on  a  certain  night, 
and  while  on  our  way  home  witnessed  the  following  picture.  In  pass 
ing  one  of  the  more  splendid  mansions  in  the  upper  part  of  Broadway 
our  attention  was  attracted  by  a  singular  looking  object,  which  we 
thought  was  attempting  to  effect  an  entrance  into  the  house.  Curiosi 
ty  led  us  to  draw  near,  when  we  beheld  a  group  of  three  little  girls 
nestled  in  the  corner  of  the  marble  doorway.  One  of  them  appeared 
to  be  about  twelve  years  of  age,  and  the  other  two  had  perhaps  seen 
seven  and  nine  years.  The  former  was  seated  in  the  Turkish  fashion 
on  the  coarse  matting,  apparently  half  asleep,  whilst  the  heads  of  the 
other  two  were  pillowed  on  her  lap,  and  both  evidently  enjoying  a 
dream  of  peace  and  comfort.  As  we  remembered  the  sumptuous  and 
fashionable  entertainment  in  which  we  had  just  participated,  and  re 
flected  upon  the  picture  before  us,  we  were  almost  disposed  to  doubt 
the  evidence  of  our  senses.  It  was  already  past  midnight,  and  the 
sleet  which  beat  upon  our  head  assured  us  that  we  ought  to  make  an 
effort  to  relieve  the  vagrant  children  from  their  miserable  condition, 
for  they  were  almost  naked  and  barefooted. 

After  some  difficulty  we  found  a  watchman,  when  we  awoke  the 
children  and  asked  them  about  their  home.  They  reluctantly  told  us 
where  their  parents  resided,  and  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that 
we  could  induce  them  to  accompany  us.  We  succeeded,  however,  in 
taking  them  home,  which  was  a  comfortless  dwelling  with  one  room, 
where  we  witnessed  the  following  spectacle.  On  a  bed  of  straw  lay 
the  father  of  these  children  in  a  state  of  senseless  intoxication,  and  on 
the  bare  floor  in  another  corner  of  the  room  was  the  mother,  moaning 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  175 

with  pain,  and  bleeding  from  wounds  which  had  been  inflicted  by  her 
cruel  husband.  One  of  the  little  girls  told  us  they  had  not  eaten  as 
much  food  as  they  wanted  for  ten  days,  that  they  had  been  forced 
into  the  street  for  the  purpose  of  begging,  and  that  the  scene  before 
us  was  an  old  story  to  them.  My  opulent  and  happy  readers,  it  is 
probable,  can  scarcely  believe  that  such  things  actually  exist  in  the 
Christian  city  of  New  York ;  but  what  we  assert  is  as  true  as  the  fact, 
that  the  scourge  intemperance  is  annually  destroying  some  thirty 
thousand  souls  in  our  land  alone. 

This  allusion  to  intemperance  reminds  me  of  another  melancholy 
picture,  which  we  once  witnessed  in  the  great  emporium.  We  had 
been  enjoying  a  walk  among  the  shipping  in  South  street,  when  we 
discovered,  partly  hidden  from  view  by  a  pile  of  casks  and  boxes,  a 
man  and  two  guardian  angels.  It  was  the  insensible  form  of  a  poor 
drunkard,  lying  on  the  ground,  and  at  his  side  two  little  girls,  one  of 
whom  looked  upon  me  with  a  most  wo-begone  expression  of  counte 
nance,  while  the  pale  temples  of  the  other  were  resting  on  the  bloated 
bosom  of  the  man.  He  was  their  father,  and  they  were  motherless. 

We  once  visited  the  Children's  Hospital  connected  with  the  Alms- 
house  of  New  York,  and  the  spectacles  we  there  witnessed  were  even 
more  touching  than  those  connected  with  the  Old  Brewery.  The 
entire  building  (which  is  on  BlackwelPs  Island)  contained  over  one 
hundred  children,  about  one-half  of  whom  were  so  ill  as  to  be  confined 
to  their  beds,  and  it  is  the  room  where  these  were  harbored  to  which 
we  now  allude.  The  beds  were  arranged  along  the  walls,  about  three 
feet  apart,  and  each  end  of  every  bed  or  cot  was  occupied  by  a  sick 
child.  The  majority  of  them  were  motherless  and  fatherless,  and 
entirely  dependent  upon  strangers  for  those  kind  and  delicate  atten 
tions  which  commonly  smooth  the  pathway  to  the  grave.  Some  of 
them  were  the  offspring  of  intemperate  parents,  now  confined  in  the 
State  Prison ;  while  many  of  them  had  not  even  inherited  a  name. 
Not  one  of  the  whole  number  but  presented  a  feeble  and  haggard  ap 
pearance,  and  the  pains  of  many  were  intense,  for  their  mingled 
moans  actually  fills  the  room  with  a  heart-sickening  chorus.  One 
poor  little  thing,  about  three  years  of  age,  was  sitting  in  its  bed,  eating 


176  EECORDS  OF  A  TOUKIST. 

a  dry  crust  of  bread,  to  satisfy  a  morbid  appetite,  and  the  disease 
which  preyed  upon  the  vitals  of  this  child  was  consumption  in  its 
most  ghastly  form.  Hollow  and  wrinkled  were  its  cheeks,  eyes  large 
and  deeply  sunken,  and,  while  looked  upon,  hot  tears  trickled  upon 
its  pillow.  In  the  same  bed  was  another  of  these  unhappy  children, 
dying  from  the  terrible  malady  of  scrofula.  It  had  been  a  cripple 
from  its  birth,  and  could  hardly  be  recognized  as  a  human  being. 
We  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  creature's  countenance  as  it  slumbered, 
and  was  positively  startled  by  its  surpassing  beauty.  It  was  as  bright 
and  spiritual  as  the  light  of  a  star.  It  was  certain,  however,  that  death 
had  marked  it  for  the  grave,  and  we  remembered  the  poet's  words : — 

"  The  good  die  first, 

And  they,  whose  hearts  are  dry  as  summer  dust, 
Burn  to  the  socket." — WORDSWORTH. 

This  deformed  but  yet  lovely  fragment  of  humanity  had  been 
picked  up  as  a  foundling,  and  was  without  a  name.  Another  child 
which  attracted  my  attention,  though  only  about  twelve  years  of  age, 
had  the  appearance  of  being  thirty.  She  had  been  brought  from  an 
emigrant  ship,  suffering  with  fever  associated  with  bronchitis.  She 
had  a  finely  developed  head,  a  beautiful  and  highly  intellectual  face, 
but  it  was  deeply  marked  with  the  lines  of  suffering,  and  her  cheeks 
were  flushed  with  the  hue  of  approaching  death.  She  was  also  trou 
bled  with  a  hollow  cough,  and  her  body  was  a  mere  skeleton.  The 
attending  physician  patted  her  upon  the  head  and  asked  her  how  she 
felt  to-day ;  when  she  looked  up  with  a  smile,  "  made  of  all  sweet 
accord/7  and  answered :  tl  I  am  going  to  die,  doctor.  Tell  them  to 
have  my  coffin  ready ;  and,  dear  doctor,  will  they  not  bury  me  by  the 
side  of  my  mother  and  little  sister,  in  that  place  you  call  Potter's 
Field  ?"  Who  now  can  ask  the  question  :  "  And  wherefore  do  the 
poor  complain  ?" 


Four  Irishmen,  all  afflicted  with  the  ship  fever,  had  landed  from  an 
emigrant  ship  in  the  city  of  New  York.  The  party  consisted  of  a 
father  and  three  sons.  They  were  friendless  and  without  money.  In 
the  company  of  three  hundred  beings,  as  miserable  as  themselves,  had 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  177 

they  landed  in  the  city,  and,  in  the  confusion  attendant  upon  the  dis 
charge  of  the  ship,  it  so  happened  that  they  were  separated,  and  the 
father  knew  not  the  fate  of  the  sons,  nor  the  sons  the  fate  of  the 
father. 

A  number  of  weeks  elapsed,  when  the  elder  brother  of  this  family 
called  upon  the  commissioner  of  the  almshouse,  praying  for  assistance 
that  he  might  find  his  relatives,  if  yet  in  the  land  of  the  living.  The 
story  that  he  told  of  his  own  sufferings  since  his  arrival  was  most 
melancholy ;  for  he  had  been  living  the  life  of  a  sick  vagrant,  in  and 
about  the  Tombs.  The  commissioner  took  pity  upon  him  and  gave 
him  all  the  assistance  he  desired,  and  the  pauper,  with  a  guide,  started 
upon  the  hunting  expedition.  The  first  place  they  visited  was  the 
New  York  Hospital,  where  it  was  ascertained  the  second  brother  had 
died  of  the  loathsome  ship  fever,  and  whence  his  remains  had  been 
taken  to  Potter's  Field.  They  next  went  to  the  Bellevue  Hospital, 
and  heard  precisely  the  same  story  with  regard  to  the  third  brother. 
They  also  visited  the  Lunatic  Asylum,  where  it  was  ascertained  that 
the  father  had  been  confined  as  a  raving-  maniac,  but  had  paid  the 
debt  of  nature,  and  was  now  a  resider  in  the  city  of  the  dead.  As  to 
the  feelings  of  the  forlorn  man,  who  had  thus  been  stripped  of  every 
tie  which  bound  him  to  the  earth,  I  cannot  attempt  to  describe  them. 
His  only  prayer  was  that  one  little  spot  of  earth  might  be  granted  to 
him,  where  he  might  rebury  his  dead  relatives,  provided  their  bodies 
could  be  recognized,  and  where  his  own  ashes  might  be  deposited  after 
his  race  was  run.  The  commissioner  promised  to  do  all  in  his  power 
to  bring  out  this  result,  and  in  less  than  one  week  the  pauper's  prayer 
was  answered  ! 

It  was  an  emigrant  ship,  and  when  boarded  by  a  New  York  pilot 
he  was  informed  that  she  had  left  England  with  two  hundred  poverty- 
stricken  passengers,  some  twenty-five  of  whom  had  died  on  the  passage, 
and  been  buried  in  the  deep.  Among  the  departed  were  a  father  and 
mother,  who  had  left  behind  them  a  little  girl  nine  years  old.  Deso 
late  indeed  was  her  lot  before  she  became  an  orphan  ]  but  when  the 
"  silver  cord"  which  bound  her  to  her  parents  was  broken,  her  condi 
tion  became  more  deplorable  than  ever ;  and,  as  the  ship  glided  into 


178  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

the  noble  bay  of  New  York,  the  child  was  also  numbered  with  the 
dead — none  knowing  whence  she  came,  none  knowing  even  her  bap 
tismal  name. 

In  due  time  the  ship  was  safely  moored;  and,  while  the  usual  dis 
charging  bustle  was  going  on,  an  almshouse  coffin  was  sent  for,  into 
which  the  pauper  child  was  placed  (with  her  ragged  clothes  carefully 
tucked  round  her  body),  and  then  given  into  the  charge  of  the  alms- 
house  sextons.  Not  one  tear  was  shed  as  they  mounted  the  hearse, 
and  not  one  word  of  regret  or  sorrow  was  uttered  by  the  multitude 
around  as  the  sextons  started  for  Potter's  Field. 

Long  was  the  way  to  the  crowded  city  of  the  dead.  The  sextons 
were  in  a  merry  mood,  and,  as  their  carriage  rattled  over  the  stony 
streets,  they  cracked  their  jokes  and  laughed  as  if  going  to  a  wedding 
instead  of  the  tomb.  But  how  could  these  men  be  blamed  ?  They 
were  following  their  vocation  and  receiving  liberal  pay.  Once  in  a 
while,  however,  a  troublesome  thought  seemed  to  pass  their  minds, 
but  it  was  only  when  fearful  that  they  might  lose  their  dinner  on 
account  of  the  great  number  of  paupers  who  were  to  be  buried  before 
the  coming  on  of  night.  They  hurried  by  a  school-house,  before 
which  a  flock  of  little  girls  were  playing  and  laughing  in  their  glee, 
but  these  happy  children  thought  not  upon  the  sister  spirit  whose  re 
mains  were  going  to  the  grave.  Onward  rattled  the  hearse,  and  after 
turning  the  corner  of  a  street  it  came  to  a  halt,  and  the  senior  sexton 
stepped  into  his  house  for  a  drink  of  water.  A  number  of  laughing 
children  met  him  at  the  door,  and  after  he  had  satisfied  his  thirst  he 
gave  each  one  of  them  a  kiss,  and  again,  in  a  jovial  mood,  started  for 
the  public  grave-yard.  Another  mile  and  the  hearse  reached  the 
margin  of  the  East  River,  where  the  Potter's  Field  boat  was  in  wait 
ing,  managed  by  the  keeper  of  the  field.  Carelessly  was  the  coffin 
transferred  from  the  hearse  to  the  boat,  and  the  journey  of  the  dead 
was  continued.  The  boat  was  now  moored  at  the  landing  place  on 
Randall's  Island,  where  the  coffin  was  taken  away  on  a  man's  shoul 
der,  and  deposited  in  a  deep  trench  covered  with  a  few  shovels  full  of 
sand,  and  lying  in  the  midst  of  a  multitude  of  unknown  dead  from 
every  nation  on  the  globe.  And  thus  endeth  the  story  of  the  pauper 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  179 

child,  who  crossed  the  ocean  only  to  find  a  grave  in  a  land  she  never 
saw,  and  where  the  very  name  she  bore  is  utterly  unknown. 


It  was  the  twilight  hour,  and  we  saw  an  old  and  deformed  woman 
standing  in  front  of  St.  Paul's,  asking  alms.  We  happened  to  be  in 
the  mood  just  then,  and  tarried  for  a  few  moments  to  watch  the  charity 
of  the  world.  Many,  in  the  passing  tide  of  human  life,  were  to  us 
unknown,  but  of  the  few  that  we  recognized  the  following  attracted 
our  particular  attention  : 

First  came  a  gentleman  whom  we  knew  to  be  a  merchant  of  great 
wealth ;  and,  as  he  approached  the  beggar,  we  surely  thought  that  he 
would  listen  to  her  petition.  But  no — he  was  thinking  of  his  last 
importation,  or  the  sum  total  of  his  rents,  and  he  passed  on  with  these 
words  as  a  donation  :  "  You  must  go  to  the  poor-house,  my  good  wo 
man."  We  thought  upon  the  days  of  darkness. 

Then  came  a  scholar-like  looking  young  man,  whom  we  knew  to  be 
a  struggler  with  poverty ;  but  he  approached  the  beggar  with  a  smile 
upon  his  countenance,  dropped  a  shilling  into  her  withered  hand,  called 
for  God's  blessing  to  rest  upon  her  head,  and  resumed  his  way.  My 
fancy  now  wandered  to  that  blessed  region  where  ever  floweth  the  river 
of  life. 

Next  came  an  intemperate  and  selfish  man.  When  the  imploring 
look  of  the  cripple  met  his  own,  he  coolly  frowned  upon  her,  uttered 
a  wicked  curse,  and  reeled  onward  to  a  hall  of  sinful  revelry.  And 
now  we  pondered  on  the  worm  that  never  dieth. 

Finally  came  a  little  flock  of  boys  and  girls,  returning  from  school. 
The  woman  smiled  upon  them,  but  spoke  not  a  single  word.  The 
children  knew  her  to  be  a  beggar,  and  paused  to  talk  with  her  a  mo 
ment.  She  told  them  briefly  the  story  of  her  life,  and  they  were 
melted  to  tears.  All  the  pennies  that  the  children  could  raise  were 
given  to  the  woman ;  and  each  child,  with  an  immortal  jewel  in  its 
heart,  passed  on  its  way  to  receive  a  shower  of  kisses  from  its  fond 
parents.  And  now  our  mind  reveled  in  a  dream  of  heaven-born  love 
liness. 


And  now,  by  way  of  giving  our  readers  an  idea  of  self-inflicted 


180  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

poverty,  we  will  furnish  them  with  a  brief  sketch  of  an  old  miser  re 
siding  in  the  Empire  city : 

He  is  an  old  man — a  very  old  man  ;  he  is  also  a  strange  man — a 
very  strange  man  ;  whose  history  and  name  are  alike  unknown.  His 
business  is  that  of  a  paper  scavenger,  and  the  spoil  which  he  collects 
in  his  journeying  about  the  city  he  disposes  of  at  the  rate  of  one  cent 
per  pound.  Many  pounds  does  he  often  gather  in  a  single  day ;  but, 
as  it  only  costs  him  four  shillings  per  week  to  live,  it  is  certain  he 
lays  up  a  few  shillings  at  the  close  of  every  day.  He  commences  his 
daily  business  in  the  down-town  streets  even  when  the  day  is  breaking, 
and  continues  at  his  monotonous  employment  until  the  dark  hours. 
He  never  goes  home  to  dinner,  but,  when  hungry,  generally  purchases 
a  dry  crust  of  bread,  and  eats  it  sitting  upon  the  lower  steps  of  the 
Custom-house  or  the  City  Hall.  Never  does  he  utter  a  word  to  a 
living  soul ;  and  when  the  stranger  looks  upon  him  he  feels  disposed 
to  exclaim,  "  what  a  poor  miserable  being  I"  He  is,  indeed,  a  pitiable 
object  to  look  upon,  for  his  leather  clothes  are  glossy  and  hard  with 
the.  accumulated  filth  of  many  years,  and  his  countenance  is  furrowed 
all  over  with  deep  wrinkles  which  no  one  could  believe  were  ever 
moistened  with  a  tear.  He  is  a  hard-visaged  man,  repulsive  and  even 
terrible  to  look  upon.  For  fifteen  years  have  we  known  this  singular 
being,  and  "even  then  he  was  so  old  he  seems  not  older  now."  There 
are  people  in  this  great  city  who  have  been  familiar  with  his  form  for 
upwards  of  twenty  years,  and  they  affirm  that  he  has  been  a  paper 
scavenger  during  all  that  time.  At  all  times,  when  the  winds  of 
winter  howl  through  the  streets,  and  also  when  the  dog-star  reigns, 
does  he  pursue  his  laborious  and  degrading  employment. 

And  now,  that  I  have  introduced  my  hero  to  the  reader,  it  is  meet 
that  we  should  mention  what  we  know  of  his  actual  condition.  He  is 
a  miser — a  narrow-minded  and  mean  miser,  who  can  count  his  dollars 
by  tens  of  thousands.  If  the  reader  doubts  my  word,  let  him,  when 
next  he  meets  the  miserable  man  in  the  public  highway,  ask  him  the 
time  of  day,  and  he  will  be  promptly  answered,  on  the  authority  of  a 
superb  gold  watch,  hidden  in  his  filthy  vestments.  A  dry  crust  of 
bread,  and  a  cast-off  bone  constitute  his  daily  food,  and  yet  this  man 
carries  the  deeds  in  his  pocket  which  prove  him  to  be  the  proprietor 


RECORDS  OP  A  TOURIST.  181 

of  at  least  five  handsome  dwelling  houses,  located  in  a  fashionable 
part  of  the  city ;  certificates  of  bank  stock  and  other  valuable  papers 
are  also  hidden  in  his  pockets.  He  is  a  widower,  but  the  father  of  an 
only  daughter,  whom  he  has  established  over  a  superbly  furnished 
house  as  the  sole  mistress  and  only  tenant.  She  has  all  she  needs  in 
the  way  of  household  things,  and  every  luxury  of  the  season,  and, 
though  her  servants  may  prepare  a  sumptuous  feast,  none  participate 
with  her  in  its  enjoyment.  Though  it  would  add  to  her  happiness  on 
such  occasion  to  call  in  a  neighboring  friend,  yet  the  privilege  of 
giving  an  invitation  is  denied  by  her  father  in  the  most  positive  and 
imperative  manner.  In  the  rear  of  this  daughter's  dwelling  is  located 
a  rickety  shell  of  a  cabin,  resembling  more  the  appearance  of  a  sty  than 
a  human  habitation,  and  this  is  the  only  dwelling-place  of  our  miser ; 
and  here  he  spends  the  precious  hours  of  his  leisure  life,  counting  his 
gold  and  examining  the  signatures  of  his  deeds  by  the  light  which 
rests  upon  his  oaken  table,  and  seldom  is  it  extinguished  until  after 
the  hour  of  midnight ;  and  when  exhausted  with  his  strange  vigils, 
carefully  does  he  fasten,  with  heavy  iron  bolts,  the  door  of  his  den, 
and  sink  to  sleep  upon  his  bed  of  rags. 


16 


182  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    FATAL    VALENTINE. 

MARY  MARLOWE  was  a  beautiful  girl,  and  the  only  child  of  devoted 
parents.  Her  father  was  a  merchant  in  moderate  circumstances,  and 
resided  in  one  of  the  more  secluded  streets  of  the  great  emporium  of 
our  land.  The  society  to  which  they  belonged  was  of  the  highest 
respectability,  but  the  life  led  by  each  member  of  this  family  was  dis 
tinguished  for  its  peacefulness. 

All  the  young  men  who  were  acquainted  with  the  only  daughter, 
were  charmed  by  her  accomplished  mind,  personal  beauty,  and  the 
sweetness  of  her  voice.  But  among  those  who  aspired  to  win  her  hand 
and  heart,  was  one  who  had  been  received  as  an  accepted  lover.  The 
parties  were  worthy  of  each  other,  and  the  love  which  was  daily  unit 
ing  them  almost  into  one  being,  was  eminently  refined  and  pure. 
Charming  beyond  compare  were  the  scenes  which  the  lover  was  con 
stantly  picturing  to  his  mind,  but  the  smiles  of  his  lady  constituted  the 
sunlight  of  every  scene ;  and  she,  too,  cherished  many  a  vision  of  un 
alloyed  happiness,  and  the  thought  never  entered  her  mind  that  the 
world  contained  a  single  cloud  that  could  possibly  cast  a  shadow  over 
her  heart.  Like  a  young  and  vigorous  tree  of  the  forest,  the  young 
man  stood  among  his  fellows;  and  like  a  flower  in  a  remote  dell  dwelt 
the  heroine  of  our  story,  in  her  quiet  home. 

It  was  the  evening  of  St.  Valentine's  Day,  and  Mary  Marlowe  was 
seated  before  a  comfortable  fire;  now  thoughtfully  peering  into  the 
glowing  grate,  and  anon  enjoying  some  of  the  fine  passages  of  her 
favorite  authors.  Her  father  was  absent  from  home  on  some  charitable 
errand,  while  her  mother  and  a  country  cousin,  who  was  making  her 
a  winter  visit,  were  spending  the  evening  with  a  neighboring  family. 
And  it  so  happened,  too,  that  Mary's  lover  was  absent  from  the  city, 
so  the  beautiful  damsel  was  entirely  alone.  Yes,  she  was  indeed 
alone,  but  far  from  being  in  a  lonely  mood,  for  her  thoughts  were 


RECORDS  OP  A  TOURIST.  183 

with  her  lover,  and  she  amused  herself  by  dwelling  upon  the  treasures 
of  her  newly-discovered  ideal  world. 

But  now  the  damsel  is  startled  by  the  sudden  ringing  of  the  street 
door  bell,  and  the  servant  presently  makes  his  appearance  in  the  parlor 
with  a  note  addressed  to  Mary  Marlowe.  She  recognizes  the  hand 
writing — it  is  from  her  lover,  and  quickly  does  she  fix  herself  comfort 
ably  in  the  old  arm-chair  to  enjoy  the  anticipated  luxury.  She  opens 
the  letter,  and  reads  as  follows  : — 

"  MY  DEAR  MARY — You  are  indeed  dear  to  me,  but  at  the  same  time 
I  think  you  are  a  cold-hearted  girl,  and  I  fear  that  you  possess  a  timid 
and  bashful  disposition,  which  would  never  be  reconciled  to  my  sterner 
nature.  In  view  of  this  deeply-rooted  belief,  I  have  conceived  the 
idea  of  bringing  our  intimacy  of  half  a  year  to  an  immediate  close. 
And  what  more  appropriate  season  could  be  selected  for  our  separation 
than  the  present,  when,  as  I  doubt  not,  you  are  well-nigh  overwhelmed 
with  the  missives  of  St.  Valentine,  and  can,  in  a  moment,  select  a 
worthy  lover  from  the  many  who  have  sought  your  hand  ?  And  now 
that  I  may  be  in  the  fashion,  I  subscribe  myself, 

YOUR  FRIEND  AND  VALENTINE." 

The  cruel  arrow  has  pierced  the  maiden's  heart,  and  by  the  calm 
despair  now  resting  on  her  brow,  we  tremble  for  her  fate.  Tears 
come  not  to  her  relief — the  crimson  current  in  her  veins  has  ceased 
to  flow,  and  she  falls  into  the  hollow  of  her  chair  in  a  deep  swoon. 
And  now  she  is  visited  by  a  dream,  and  if  we  are  to  believe  the  story 
of  her  countenance,  strange  and  fearful  must  be  the  character  of  that 
dream. 

*  *  *  #  *  >K  * 

It  is  now  ten  o'clock;  the  family  have  all  returned,  and  our  Mary 
has  recovered  from  her  swoon.  Laughingly  does  her  mother  talk  to 
her  about  her  housekeeping  duties,  for  her  drooping  eyelids  intimate 
the  idea  that  she  has  enjoyed  a  comfortable  nap.  To  this  a  pleasant 
reply  is  returned,  accompanied  with  a  kiss  for  all  present,  but  none, 
save  our  poor  Mary,  can  see  the  heavy  cloud  brooding  upon  the  house- 


184  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

hold.  A  few  moments  more,  and  the  family  have  all  retired  to  their 
several  apartments,  and  the  house  is  shrouded  in  silence. 

As  usual,  Mary  and  her  cousin  are  to  occupy  the  same  bed,  and  the 
latter,  being  uncommonly  drowsy,  is  soon  lost  in  a  sweet  slumber. 
And  now  let  us  watch  with  care  the  movements  of  her  companion, 
who,  when  last  noticed  by  the  sleeper,  was  poring  over  the  pages  of 
her  Bible.  Noiselessly  do  her  footsteps  fall  upon  the  carpet,  as  she 
goes  to  a  closet  for  a  small  vial,  which  she  examines,  and  then  places 
upon  her  dressing-case.  Drawer  after  drawer  is  opened,  and  on  one 
or  two  chairs  are  displayed  the  various  articles  which  compose  the 
dress  of  a  bride.  And  now  the  lady  retires  to  her  bath,  and  then 
comes  forth  with  a  ruddy  glow  upon  her  cheek;  her  flowing  hair  is 
bound  into  its  beautiful  folds,  and  in  a  short  time  she  stands  before 
her  mirror  decked  in  spotless  white,  as  if  for  a  virgin  festival.  What 
does  all  this  mean?  Alas!  our  Mary  is  "the  queen  of  a  fantastic 
realm." 

But,  lo!  another  change.  The  lamp  has  been  extinguished,  and 
our  Mary  is  upon  her  knees  at  prayer,  with  her  hands  closely  clasped, 
and  her  full  liquid  eyes  turned  heavenward.  The  mellow  moonlight 
steals  sweetly  through  the  open  curtains,  adding  an  unwonted  bright 
ness,  as  it  were,  to  the  figure  of  the  praying  girl.  Not  a  sound  is  there 
to  break  the  holy  silence  of  the  place — no  sound  save  the  almost  in 
audible  words  of  this  strange  prayer : — 

"Father  in  heaven,  I  cannot  understand  the  decree  of  thy  Provi 
dence,  but  I  submit  to  thy  dispensation  without  a  murmur.  I  knew 
that  in  my  womanly  idolatry  I  was  forgetting  thee,  and  I  now  beseech 
thee,  in  thine  infinite  love,  to  have  mercy  upon  me,  and  wash  my  soul 
from  every  transgression.  Have  mercy  also,  0  God,  upon  him  who 
has  broken  my  heart ;  comfort  my  parents  in  their  declining  years, 
and  answer  my  prayer  through  the  merits  of  thy  Son,  the  Redeemer 
of  the  world.  I  come  to  dwell  with  Thee,  if  thou  wilt  receive  me  to 

thy  bosom.     Amen  and  Amen." 

*  *  #  *  *  #  * 

Morning  dawned,  and  the  pleasant  sunshine  was  flooding  the  world 
with  beauty.  Our  Mary's  cousin  was  the  first  to  awaken  from  slum 
ber,  when  she  encircled  her  bedfellow  with  her  arms,  and  imprinted 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  185 

an  affectionate  kiss  upon  her  lips;  one  moment  more,  and  she  was 
petrified  with  horror — for  Mary  Marlowe  was  numbered  with  the  dead. 
On  the  third  day  after  that  of  St.  Valentine,  the  lover  of  the  un 
happy  suicide  returned  to  the  city.  He  found  not  his  beloved  in  the 
pleasant  parlor  of  her  father,  but  a  sleeper  in  the  voiceless  and  deso 
late  tomb.  The  fatal  valentine  was  found  and  submitted  to  his  in 
spection.  He  avowed  his  utter  ignorance  of  it,  and  having  fallen  into 
a  settled  melancholy,  is  now  a  raving  maniac.  As  to  the  thoughtless 
and  wicked  man  who  wrote  the  foolish  valentine,  his  name  and  pur 
pose  are  alike  unknown. 

NOTE. — The  prominent  features  of  this  incident  actually  occurred  in  the  city 
of  New  York  in  February,  1847. 


16* 


INDIAN    LEGENDS. 


NOTE    PRELIMINARY. 

THE  following  romantic  but  authentic  legends  have  been  collected  by  the  writer 
from  a  variety  of  sources,  and  are  now  presented  to  the  public  as  an  addition  to 
the  aboriginal  lore,  already  published  in  his  several  books  of  travel. 


INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


THE    SHOOTING    METEORS. 

AMONG  the  Indians  who  live  upon  the  north-eastern  shore  of  Lake 
Huron,  a  remnant  of  the  Iroquois,  it  is  believed  that  the  heavens  con 
tain  only  four  meteors  which  have  the  power  of  shooting  through  the 
sky.  It  is  thought  they  severally  occupy  the  four  quarters  of  the 
compass,  and  that  they  never  perform  their  arrowy  journey  excepting 
for  the  purpose  of  warning  the  Huron  Indians  of  approaching  war. 
The  meteors  in  question,  or  Pun  gung-nung,  are  recognized  by  their 
peculiar  brilliancy,  and  universally  considered  the  Manitoes  or  guardian 
spirits  of  the  entire  Indian  race.  They  came  into  existence  at  the 
same  period  of  time  which  witnessed  the  creation  of  Lake  Huron  it 
self,  and  the  legend  which  accounts  for  their  origin  is  distinguished  for 
the  wild  and  romantic  fancies  of  the  aborigines.  I  obtained  it  from  a 
chief  named  On  qwa-sug,  or  Floating  Wood. 

It  was  the  winter  time,  and  an  Indian  with  his  wife  and  two  children, 
a  daughter  and  a  son,  were  living  in  a  wigwam  on  a  bleak  peninsula  of 
the  Great  Lake.  The  game  of  that  section  of  country  had  nearly  all 
disappeared,  and  the  fish  were  spending  the  season  in  such  deep  water, 
that  it  was  quite  impossible  to  secure  any  of  them  for  food.  Every 
thing  seemed  to  go  wrong  with  the  poverty-stricken  Indian,  and  he 
was  constantly  troubled  with  the  fear  that  the  Master  of  Life  intended 
to  annihilate  his  family  and  himself  by  starvation.  He  expressed  his 
anxiety  to  his  wife,  and  was  surprised  to  hear  her  answer  him  with  a 
song. 

Nearly  half  a  moon  had  passed  away,  and  the  sufferings  of  this  un 
fortunate  family  were  melancholy  in  the  extreme.  Whole  days  did 
the  father  spend  roaming  through  the  forests,  with  his  bow  and  arrows, 
and  on  four  several  evenings  had  he  returned  without  even  a  pair  of 
tiny  snow-birds  for  a  supper.  The  ill-luck  which  attended  him  in  his 
expeditions  made  him  very  miserable,  but  he  was  frequently  astonished 


190  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

and  alarmed,  on  such  occasions,  by  the  conduct  of  his  wife  and  children. 
When  he  gave  them  an  account  of  his  ill-luck  in  obtaining  game,  in 
stead  of  manifesting  any  anxiety,  they  usually  ran  about  the  wigwam 
with  their  fingers  on  their  mouths,  and  uttering  a  singular  moan.  He 
noticed  with  fear  that  they  were  becoming  greatly  emaciated  for  the 
want  of  food.  So  deeply  grieved  was  the  poor  man,  that  he  almost  re 
solved  to  bury  himself  in  the  snow  and  die.  He  made  a  better  reso 
lution  and  again  went  out  to  hunt. 

On  one  occasion  he  had  wandered  into  the  woods  to  an  unusual  dis 
tance,  and,  as  fortune  would  have  it,  was  successful  in  finding  and 
shooting  a  single  rabbit.  With  the  speed  of  a  deer  did  he  return  to 
his  cabin  (with  his  braided  shoes  over  the  crusted  snow),  but  he  now 
met  with  a  new  disappointment.  On  entering  his  lodge  he  found  the 
fire  entirely  out,  and  the  simple  utensils  for  cooking  all  scattered  about 
in  great  confusion;  but  what  was  far  more  melancholy,  his  wife  and 
children  were  gone,  and  he  knew  not  where  to  find  them.  The  more 
he  thought  upon  what  had  happened  for  many  days  past,  the  more  be 
wildered  did  he  become.  He  threw  down  his  game  almost  in  despair, 
and  hurried  out  of  his  cabin  in  search  of  his  missing  family.  He 
looked  in  every  direction,  but  could  see  no  signs  of  their  appearing,  and 
the  only  noise  that  he  could  possibly  hear  was  a  singular  and  most 
doleful  moan,  resembling  the  wail  of  a  loon,  which  seemed  to  come 
from  the  upper  air.  By  a  natural  instinct  he  raised  his  eyes  towards 
the  heavens,  and  beheld  perched  upon  the  dry  limb  of  a  tall  tree  which 
stood  a  short  distance  off,  all  the  members  of  his  family.  He  shouted 
with  delight  at  the  unexpected  spectacle,  and,  rushing  towards  the  tree, 
told  his  wife  and  children  that  they  must  come  down,  for  he  had  killed 
a  rabbit  and  they  would  now  have  a  good  feast.  But  again  was  he  as 
tonished  to  find  his  words  unheeded.  Again  did  he  beseech  them  to 
come  down,  but  they  replied  not  a  single  word,  and  looked  upon  him 
with  eyes  that  seemed  made  of  fire.  And  what  was  still  more  won 
derful  it  was  evident  that  they  had  thrown  aside  their  beaver  and  deer 
skin  dresses,  and  were  now  decked  out  in  newly  fashioned  robes  made 
of  the  fur  of  the  white  fisher  and  the  white  fox.  All  this  was  utterly 
inexplicable,  and  the  poor  husband  re-entered  his  lodge,  bewildered 
and  perplexed  to  a  marvelous  degree. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  191 

Then  it  was  that  the  idea  entered  his  head  that  he  would  try  an  ex 
periment,  by  appealing  to  the  hunger  of  his  obstinate  wife  and  children. 
He  therefore  cleaned  the  rabbit  and  boiled  a  sweet  soup  which  he  car 
ried  out,  and  with  which  he  endeavored  to  allure  his  friends  to  the 
earth.  But  this  attempt  was  all  in  vain.  The  mother  and  her  children 
expressed  no  desire  for  the  food,  and  still  remained  upon  the  tree, 
swaying  to  and  fro  like  a  flock  of  large  birds.  Again  in  his  wretched 
ness  was  he  about  to  destroy  himself,  but  he  took  the  precaution  to  ap 
propriate  the  soup  to  its  legitimate  purpose.  Soon  as  this  business 
was  accomplished,  he  relapsed  into  his  former  state  of  melancholy, 
from  which  he  was  suddenly  aroused  by  the  moans  of  his  wife,  which 
he  was  sure  had  an  articulate  tone.  Again  was  he  riveted  to  his  stand 
ing  place  under  the  magic  tree,  and  from  the  moaning  of  his  wife  he 
gathered  the  following  intelligence.  She  told  him  that  the  Master 
of  Life  had  fallen  in  love  with  her  and  her  two  children,  and  had  there 
fore  transformed  them  all  into  spirits,  with  a  view  of  preparing  them 
for  a  home  in  the  sky.  She  also  told  him  that  they  would  not  de 
part  for  their  future  home  until  the  coming  spring,  but  would  in  the 
meantime  roam  in  distant  countries  till  the  time  of  his  own  trans 
portation  should  arrive.  Having  finished  her  communication,  she  and 
her  children  immediately  commenced  a  song,  which  resembled  the 
distant  winds,  when  they  all  rose  gracefully  from  the  tree,  and  leaning 
forward  upon  the  air,  darted  away  across  the  lake  toward  the  remote 
South. 

A  cheerless  and  forlorn  moon  did  the  poor  Indian  spend  in  his 
lonely  lodge  on  the  margin  of  the  Great  Lake.  Spring  came,  and  just 
as  the  last  vestige  of  snow  had  melted  from  the  woods,  and  at  the 
quiet  evening  hour,  his  spirit-wife  again  made  her  appearance ,  accom 
panied  by  her  two  children.  She  told  her  husband  that  he  might  be 
come  a  spirit  by  eating  a  certain  berry.  He  was  delighted  with  the 
idea,  and,  complying  with  her  advice,  he  suddenly  became  transformed 
into  a  spirit,  and  having  flown  to  the  side  of  his  wife  and  children, 
the  party  gradually  began  to  ascend  into  the  air,  when  the  Master  of 
Life  thought  proper  to  change  them  into  a  family  of  Shooting  Stars. 
He  allotted  to  each  a  particular  division  of  the  heavens,  and  com 
manded  them  to  remain  there  forever,  as  the  guardians  of  the  great 
nation  of  Lake  Huron. 


192  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    MAIDEN    OF    THE    MOON. 

The  following  legend  was  obtained  from  the  lips  of  a  Chippeway  woman 
named  Penaqua,  or  the  Female  Pheasant,  and  I  hardly  know  which  to  admire 
most,  the  simple  beauty  of  the  plot,  or  the  graphic  and  unique  manner  of  the 
narrative,  of  which,  I  regret  to  say,  I  can  hardly  give  a  faithful  translation. 

AMONG  the  rivers  of  the  North,  none  can  boast  of  more  numerous 
charms  than  the  St.  Louis,  and  the  fairest  spot  of  the  earth  which  it 
waters  is  that  where  now  stands  the  trading  post  of  Fond  du  lac.  Up 
on  this  spot,  many  summers  ago,  there  lived  a  Chippeway  chief  and 
his  wife,  who  were  the  parents  of  an  only  daughter.  Her  name  was 
Weesh — Ko-da-e-mire,  or  the  Sweet  Strawberry,  and  she  was  ac 
knowledged  to  be  the  most  beautiful  maiden  of  her  nation.  Her 
voice  was  like  that  of  the  turtle-dove,  and  the  red  deer  was  not  more 
graceful  and  sprightly  in  its  form.  Her  eyes  were  brilliant  as  the 
star  of  the  northern  sky,  which  guides  the  hunter  through  the 
wilderness,  and  her  dark  hair  clustered  around  her  neck  like  grape 
vines  around  the  trunk  of  the  tree  they  loved.  The  young  men  of  every 
nation  had  striven  to  win  her  heart,  but  she  smiled  upon  none.  Curi 
ous  presents  were  sent  to  her  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  but 
she  received  them  not.  Seldom  did  she  deign  to  reply  to  the  many 
warriors  who  entered  her  father's  lodge,  and  when  she  did,  it  was  only 
to  assure  them  that  while  upon  earth  she  would  never  change  her  con 
dition.  Her  strange  conduct  astonished  them,  but  did  not  subdue 
their  affection.  Many  and  noble  were  the  deeds  they  performed,  not 
only  in  winning  the  white  plumes  of  the  eagle,  but  in  hunting  the 
elk  and  the  black  bear.  But  all  their  exploits  availed  them  nothing, 
for  the  heart  of  the  beautiful  girl  was  still  untouched. 

The  snows  of  winter  were  all  gone,  and  the  pleasant  winds  of  spring 
were  blowing  over  the  land.  The  time  for  making  sugar  had  arrived, 
though  the  men  had  not  yet  returned  from  the  remote  hunting  grounds, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  193 

and  in  the  maple  forests  bright  fires  were  burning,  and  the  fragrance 
of  the  sweet  sap  filled  all  the  air.  The  ringing  laugh  of  childhood  and 
the  mature  song  of  women  were  heard  in  the  valley,  but  in  no  part  of 
the  wilderness  could  be  found  more  happiness  than  on  the  banks  of 
the  St.  Louis.  But  the  Sweet  Strawberry  mingled  with  the  young 
men  and  maidens  of  her  tribe  in  a  thoughtful  mood  and  with  down 
cast  eyes.  She  was  evidently  bowed  down  by  some  mysterious  grief, 
but  she  neglected  not  her  duties ;  and  though  she  spent  much  of  her 
time  alone,  her  buchere-bucket  was  as  frequently  filled  with  the  sugar 
juice  as  any  of  her  companions. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  affairs  when  a  party  of  young  warriors 
from  the  far  North  came  upon  a  frolic  to  the  St.  Louis  River.  Having 
seen  the  many  handsome  maidens  of  this  region,  the  strangers  became 
enamored  of  their  charms,  and  each  one  succeeded  in  obtaining  the 
love  of  a  maiden,  who  was  to  become  his  bride  during  the  marrying 
season  of  summer. 

The  warriors  had  heard  of  the  Sweet  Strawberry,  but,  neglected  by 
all  of  them,  she  was  still  doomed  to  remain  alone.  She  witnessed  the 
happiness  of  her  old  playmates,  and,  wondering  at  her  own  strange 
fate,  spent  much  of  her  time  in  solitude.  She  even  became  so  un 
happy  and  bewildered  that  she  heeded  not  the  tender  words  of  her 
mother,  and  from  that  time  the  music  of  her  voice  was  never  heard. 

The  sugar  making  season  was  now  rapidly  passing  away,  but  the 
brow  of  the  Sweet  Strawberry  was  still  overshadowed  with  grief. 
Everything  was  done  to  restore  her  to  her  wonted  cheerfulness,  but  she 
remained  unchanged.  Wild  ducks  in  innumerable  numbers  arrived 
with  every  southern  wind,  and  settled  upon  the  surrounding  waters, 
and  proceeded  to  build  their  nests  in  pairs,  and  the  Indian  maiden 
sighed  over  her  mysterious  doom.  On  one  occasion  she  espied  a  clus 
ter  of  early  spring  flowers  peering  above  the  dry  leaves  of  the  forest, 
and,  strange  to  say,  even  these  were  separated  into  pairs,  and  seemed 
to  be  wooing  each  other  in  love.  All  things  whispered  to  her  of  love, 
the  happiness  of  her  companions,  the  birds  of  the  air,  and  the  flowers. 
She  looked  into  her  heart,  and,  inwardly  praying  for  a  companion 
whom  she  might  love,  the  Master  of  Life  took  pity  upon  her  lot  and 
answered  her  prayer. 
17 


194  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

It  was  now  the  twilight  hour,  and  in  the  maple  woods  the  Indian 
boys  were  watching  their  fires,  and  the  women  were  bringing  in  the 
sap  from  the  surrounding  trees.  The  time  for  making  sugar  was  al 
most  gone,  and  the  well-filled  mokucks,  which  might  be  seen  in  all  the 
wigwams,  testified  that  the  yield  had  been  abundant.  The  hearts  of  the 
old  women  beat  in  thankfulness,  and  the  young  men 'and  maidens 
were  already  beginning  to  anticipate  the  pleasures  of  wedded  life  and 
those  associated  with  the  sweet  summer  time.  But  the  brow  of  the 
Sweet  Strawberry  continued  to  droop,  and  her  friends  looked  upon  her 
as  the  victim  of  a  settled  melancholy.  Her  duties,  however,  were 
performed  without  a  murmur,  and  so  continued  to  be  performed  until 
the  trees  refused  to  fill  her  buchere-bucket  with  sap,  when  she  stole  away 
from  the  sugar  camp  and  wandered  to  a  retired  place  to  muse  upon 
her  sorrows.  Her  unaccountable  grief  was  very  bitter,  but  did  not 
long  endure;  for,  as  she  stood  gazing  upon  the  sky,  the  moon  ascended 
above  the  hills  and  filled  her  soul  with  a  joy  she  had  never  felt  before. 
The  longer  she  looked  upon  the  brilliant  object,  the  more  deeply  in 
love  did  she  become  with  its  celestial  charms,  and  she  burst  forth  into 
a  song — a  loud,  wild,  and  joyous  song.  Her  musical  voice  echoed 
through  the  woods,  and  her  friends  hastened  to  ascertain  the  cause. 
They  gathered  around  her  in  crowds,  but  she  heeded  them  not.  They 
wondered  at  the  wildness  of  her  words,  and  the  airy-like  appearance 
of  her  form.  They  were  spell-bound  by  the  scene  before  them,  but 
their  astonishment  knew  no  limits  when  they  saw  her  gradually  ascend 
from  the  earth  into  the  air,  where  she  disappeared,  as  if  borne  upward 
by  the  evening  wind.  And  then  it  was  that  they  discovered  her  clasped 
in  the  embraces  of  the  moon,  for  they  knew  that  the  spots  which  they 
saw  within  the  circle  of  that  planet  were  those  of  her  robe,  which  she 
had  made  from  the  skins  of  the  spotted  fawn. 

Many  summers  have  passed  away  since  the  Sweet  Strawberry  be 
came  the  Maiden  of  the  Moon,  yet  among  all  the  people  of  her  nation 
is  she  ever  remembered  for  her  beauty  and  the  mystery  of  her  being. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  195 


THE    GHOSTLY    MAN-EATER. 

THERE  is  an  idea  existing  among  the  Chippeway  Indians,  which 
corroborates  a  statement  made  by  the  early  travelers  on  this  continent 
relative  to  the  belief  that  there  once  existed  among  the  aboriginal 
tribes,  a  species  of  vampire,  or  ghostly  man-eater.  The  Chippeways 
do  not  assert  that  there  ever  lived  more  than  one  of  these  unearthly 
beings;  but  they  pretend  that  such  an  one  did,  and  does  exist,  and  that 
he  has  his  residence  upon  an  island  in  the  centre  of  Lake  Superior 
— which  island  can  never  be  seen  by  mortal  man,  excepting  when 
darkness  has  settled  upon  the  world.  The  stories  they  relate  of  his 
appearance  and  deeds,  are  horrible  in  the  extreme,  and  resemble  much 
the  creations  of  a  mind  suffering  under  the  influence  of  the  nightmare. 
For  example,  they  describe  this  monster  as  possessing  the  material 
appearance  of  the  human  form — but  of  such  a  nature  as  not  to  be  sus 
ceptible  to  the  touch.  He  is  said  to  have  the  body  of  a  serpent,  with 
human  legs  and  arms — all  supplied  with  immense  nails,  which  he  em 
ploys  for  the  double  purpose  of  digging  up  the  earth,  and  dissecting 
the  bodies  upon  which  he  feeds;  his  head  is  like  that  of  the  wolf,  and 
his  teeth  of  a  peculiar  sharpness. 

The  deeds  which  he  performs  are  worthy  of  his  personal  appearance 
— and  some  of  them  are  as  follows :  When  the  Indian  mother,  during 
a  long  journey,  has  lost  her  infant  child,  and  placed  it  on  the  rude 
scaffold,  that  she  may  return  to  it  at  some  future  day,  the  Ghostly 
Man-Eater  only  waits  until  she  is  fairly  out  of  his  sight,  and  then  pro 
ceeds  to  the  sacred  place,  and  feasts  himself  upon  the  tender  flesh  and 
blood  of  his  victim.  And  therefore  it  is,  that  the  traveler  sometimes 
sees,  in  the  remote  wilderness,  fragments  of  human  bones  scattered  on 
the  ground,  as  if  a  wolf  had  been  suddenly  interrupted,  while  devour 
ing  his  prey.  But  the  Man-Eater  sometimes  enters  the  house,  or  half- 
buried  receptacle  of  the  dead ;  and,  after  digging  his  way  to  the  decay- 


196  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

ing  body,  coils  himself  up,  as  if  in  delight,  and  gluts  his  appetite  with 
the  unholy  food.  How  it  is  that  he  travels,  with  lightning  speed, 
from  one  distant  place  to  another,  has  never  been  ascertained;  but  the 
strange  sounds  which  the  Indian  occasionally  hears,  high  in  the  air 
above  his  wigwam,  is  thought  to  be  the  song  of  the  Man-Eater,  as  he 
hurries  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind,  from  a  recent  banquet,  to  his 
mysterious  island  on  the  lake. 

But  I  once  heard  a  legend  in  the  Chippeway  country,  which  ac 
counted  for  the  origin  of  the  man-eating  monster — and  I  now  record 
it  in  the  English  tongue,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  feel  an  interest 
in  the  mythology  of  the  Indian,  and  the  peculiarities  of  his  mind. 
The  individual  from  whom  I  obtained  this  story  was  named  Ka-yon- 
kee-me,  or  the  Swift  Arrow;  and  his  words,  as  near  as  we  can  remem 
ber  them,  were  as  follows  : — 

I  ask  the  white  man  to  listen.  At  an  early  period  in  the  history  of 
the  world,  an  old  Indian  hunter  and  a  little  boy  who  was  his  grand 
son,  lived  in  an  isolated  cabin  on  the  north  shore  of  Lake  Superior. 
They  were  the  only  remnants  of  a  once  powerful  tribe  of  Indians, 
whose  name  is  not  now  remembered.  It  was  the  middle  of  a  long 
and  dreary  winter,  and  the  entire  country  was  covered  with  snow,  to 
the  height  of  the  tallest  wigwam.  The  section  of  country  where  re 
sided  the  hunter  and  child  was  particularly  desolate,  and  destitute  of 
almost  every  species  of  game ;  and  whilst  the  former  was  too  feeble  to 
wander  far,  after  the  necessary  food,  the  latter  was  too  young  and  in 
experienced.  The  very  wood  which  the  unequal  pair  collected  to 
keep  them  warm,  was  brought  to  their  cabin  with  the  greatest  diffi 
culty  ;  and  the  thought  occasionally  entered  the  old  man's  mind,  that 
the  Great  Spirit  was  about  to  give  him  up  to  the  pains  of  starvation. 
He  uttered  not  a  murmur,  however ;  but,  as  he  reflected  upon  his  im 
pending  fate,  he  -bit  his  lips  with  a  scornful  smile. 

One,  two,  and  three  days  had  passed  away  and  the  old  man,  as  well 
as  the  child,  had  not  tasted  a  particle  of  food.  But,  on  the  evening  of 
the  fourth  day,  the  boy  came  tottering  into  the  comfortless  lodge  and 
threw  at  the  feet  of  his 'grandfather  the  lifeless  body  of  a  white  part 
ridge,  which  he  had  fortunately  killed  with  his  own  arrow.  Immedi 
ately  was  the  bird  divested  of  its  feathers — and,  while  yet  its  very 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  197 

blood  was  warm,  it  was  devoured  by  the  starving  man  and  child. — 
Sweet  was  the  slumber  of  the  noble  boy  on  that  night — but,  as  the 
story  goes,  that  aged  man  was  visited  by  a  dreadful  dream  at  the  same 
time,  which  made  him  a  maniac. 

Another  day  was  nearly  gone,  and  the  unhappy  pair  were  standing 
in  front  of  their  wigwam  watching  the  western  sky,  as  the  sun  enlivened 
it  with  his  parting  beams.  The  old  man  pointed  to  the  bright  pic 
ture,  and  told  the  boy  that  there  was  the  gateway  to  the  Spirit  Land, 
where  perpetual  summer  reigned,  and  game  was  found  in  great  abun 
dance.  He  spoke  too  of  the  child's  father  and  mother,  and  of  his 
little  brother,  whom  he  described  as  decked  out  in  the  most  beautiful 
of  robes,  as  they  wandered  through  the  forests  of  that  distant,  shadowy 
land.  The  boy,  though  suffering  with  the  pangs  of  hunger,  clapped 
his  little  hands  in  glee,  and  told  his  grandfather  that  it  would  make 
him  very  happy  if  he  could  go  to  the  land  of  perpetual  summer.  And 
then  it  was  that  the  old  man  patted  the  boy  upon  his  head,  and  told 
him  that  his  desires  should  be  realized  before  the  sun  again  made  its 
appearance  above  the  snow-covered  mountains  and  plains  of  the  east. 

It  was  now  the  hour  of  midnight.  Intensely  cold  was  the  wind 
which  swept  over  the  wilderness,  but  the  sky  was  very  blue,  and  stud 
ded  with  many  stars.  No  sound  broke  upon  the  air,  save  the  occa 
sional  groan  of  the  ice  along  the  lake  shore,  and  the  hissing  whisper 
of  the  frost.  Within  the  Indian  lodge,  which  was  the  very  home  of 
desolation,  the  child  was  sweetly  sleeping,  enveloped  in  his  robes, 
while  the  old  man  bent  over  the  burning  embers  as  if  in  despair. 
Some  inhuman  thought  had  crazed  his  brain,  and  he  was  nerving  him 
self  for  an  unheard  of  crime.  One  moment  more,  and  in  the  dim 
light  of  that  lonely  lodge,  gleamed  the  polished  blade  of  a  flinty 
weapon — a  sudden  groan  was  heard — and  the  Indian  maniac  was  feed 
ing  upon  the  body  of  his  child. 

I  have  given  the  white  man  a  sorrowful  history,  but  it  is  one  which 
the  Chippeway  nation  believe.  On  the  morning  which  followed  the 
event  I  have  now  narrated,  a  party  of  Indian  hunters  came  to  the 
cabin  of  the  unknown  man,  and  they  found  him  lying  dead  upon  the 
ground,  with  the  mangled  remains  of  the  boy  at  his  side.  This  was 
the  most  terrible  deed  which  ever  happened  in  the  Chippeway  country 

17* 


198  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

— and  the  one  which  so  greatly  offended  the  Great  Spirit,  that  he 
pronounced  a  curse  upon  the  man  who  had  destroyed  his  child  for 
food — and  he,  therefore,  doomed  him  to  live  upon  the  earth  forever, 
tormented  with  an  appetite  which  nothing  can  ever  appease,  but  the 
decaying  flesh  of  the  human  race. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  199 


THE    FIRE-WATER    SACRIFICE. 

THE  historical  tradition  which  I  am  now  to  narrate,  is  said  to  have 
occurred  at  an  early  day  on  the  extreme  western  point  of  what  is  now 
called  Drummond's  Island,  in  the  northern  waters  of  Lake  Huron.  I 
obtained  it  from  the  lips  of  Kah-ge-ga-gah-bowh,  or  Upright  Standing, 
a  young  chief  of  the  Chippeway  nation,  who  assured  me  that  it  com 
memorated  the  first  introduction  of  the  baneful  Fire-water  into  the 
Indian  country. 

It  was  the  afternoon  of  a  pleasant  day  in  the  autumn-time,  when  a 
trading  canoe  landed  on  Drummond's  Island,  in  the  immediate  vicinity 
of  a  Chippeway  village.  It  belonged  to  a  French  trader,  and  was 
laden  with  a  barrel  of  whisky,  which  he  had  brought  from  the  lower 
country.  Soon  as  he  had  deposited  his  barrel  upon  the  beach,  he 
called  together  the  men  of  the  village,  and  told  them  that  he  had  it  in 
his  power  to  supply  them  with  a  beverage  which  would  make  them 
exceedingly  happy,  and  that  he  was  willing  to  supply  them  with  what 
they  wanted,  provided  they  would  give  into  his  hands  all  the  furs  they 
had  in  their  possession.  A  bargain  was  consequently  made,  and  while 
the  entire  population  of  the  village  were  quaffing  the  baneful  fire-water, 
the  trader  packed  away  his  treasures  in  the  canoe,  and  under  cover  of 
the  night,  started  upon  his  return  to  Detroit. 

The  moon  and  stars  came  forth  in  the  northern  sky,  and  the  only 
sound  which  broke  the  solitude  of  the  wilderness  issued  from  the  In 
dian  village,  where  the  medicine  man  and  the  chief,  the  Indian  mother 
and  her  infant,  were  shouting  and  dancing  and  fighting  in  a  delirium 
of  madness.  The  carousal  did  not  end  until  the  break  of  day,  and 
soon  as  the  sun  was  fairly  risen  above  the  horizon,  it  was  rumored  in 
every  wigwam  that  a  young  hunter  named  Ne-mo-a-Kim,  or  Purple 
Slielly  had  taken  the  life  of  a  brother  hunter,  who  happened  to  be  his 
dearest  friend.  An  apparent  gloom  rested  upon  every  countenance, 


200  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

and  as  the  more  aged  Indians  reflected  upon  the  sudden  disappearance 
of  the  trader,  and  upon  the  headache  which  many  of  them  endured, 
they  became  greatly  enraged,  and  attributed  the  calamity  which  had 
befallen  them  to  the  burning  water.  But  the  trader  who  had  brought 
it  to  them  was  beyond  their  reach;  so  they  buried  the  murdered  man 
with  appropriate  honors,  and  then  announced  that  a  council  should  be 
immediately  held  to  decide  upon  the  fate  of  the  murderer.  Blood  for 
blood  was  demanded  by  the  relatives  of  the  deceased ;  the  time-honored 
law  of  the  Chippeways  could  not  be  evaded,  and  a  delegation  was 
appointed  to  prepare  Ne-mo-a-Kim  for  the  sacrifice.  His  lodge  was 
entered  by  the  ministers  of  death,  but  Ne-mo-a-Kim  was  not  there. 
They  hunted  for  him  in  all  the  wigwams  of  the  village,  but  nowhere 
could  he  be  found.  The  old  men  who  had  suffered  with  him  in  the 
remote  wilderness,  and  had  never  known  him  to  be  guilty  of  a  cowardly 
deed,  now  shook  their  heads  in  sorrow  and  disappointment.  Another 
council  was  held,  another  ancient  law  remembered,  and  it  was  again 
decided  that  the  only  relative  and  brother  of  Ne-mo-a-Kim  should 
suffer  in  his  stead.  The  name  of  that  brother  was  Ma-Ko-nah,  or 
The  Unbending  Pine,  and  when  they  informed  him  of  his  fate,  he 
uttered  not  a  murmur,  but  demanded  that  his  execution  should  take 
place  on  the  following  night  at  the  rising  of  the  moon. 

And  now  for  another  scene  in  our  strange  story.  The  sun  has  long 
been  absent  from  the  western  sky,  and  once  more  has  the  solemn  mid 
night  settled  upon  the  world.  The  inhabitants  of  the  Indian  village 
have  assembled  upon  a  level  green.  Firmly  in  the  earth  have  they 
planted  a  stake,  on  either  side  of  which  are  burning  a  couple  of  huge 
fires,  while  at  the  distance  of  about  one  hundred  feet  may  be  discerned 
a  crowd  of  eight  or  ten  young  men,  who  are  bending  their  bows  and 
straightening  their  arrows  for  the  cruel  deed.  A  small  white  cloud 
makes  its  appearance  above  the  horizon,  and  a  murmur  of  excitement 
issues  from  the  crowd  of  human  beings.  The  proud  form  of  an  Indian 
is  now  seen  marching  across  the  green,  when  the  name  of  Ma-Ko-nah 
is  whispered  from  ear  to  ear,  and  an  unearthly  shout  ascends  into  the 
upper  air.  The  heroic  man  stands  before  the  stake,  and  looks  with 
scorn  upon  the  withes  lying  at  his  feet.  The  people  have  confided  in 


EECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  201 

liis  bravery,  and  they  will  not  humble  his  proud  spirit  by  resorting  to 
the  disgraceful  implements  of  security.  Upon  his  naked  breast  has 
the  Indian  hero  painted  the  uncouth  figure  of  a  swan,  as  a  certain 
mark  for  the  arrows  which  are  to  deprive  him  of  life.  Around  his 
waist  has  he  carefully  adjusted  his  richest  robe,  and  by  a  motion  of 
his  hand,  has  signified  his  intention  of  delivering  a  speech ;  an  intense 
silence  reigns  throughout  the  surrounding  multitude,  and  Ma-Ko-nah 
thus  addresses  his  cowardly  brother,  whose  spirit  he  imagines  to  be 
hovering  near. 

"Willingly  do  I  die  for  you,  my  brother,  but  you  have  disgraced 
your  nation.  Your  name  will  hereafter  be  hissed  at  by  the  little  boys, 
when  they  pick  up  the  purple  shells  on  the  lake  shore.  I  am  going 
to  the  Spirit  Land,  and  while  I  shall  be  happy  in  the  possession  of 
every  good,  you  will  be  despised  by  all  who  learn  your  history.  Your 
food  will  be  bitter,  and  the  ground  upon  which  you  will  have  to  sleep 
will  always  be  uneven,  and  covered  with  thorns  and  stones.  You  are 
a  coward,  my  brother ;  but  Ma-Ko-nah  is  a  brave  man,  and  not  afraid 
to  die." 

Loud  and  long  was  the  shout  which  replied  to  this  proud  speech. 
All  things  were  now  read}^,  and  the  fatal  moment,  when  the  rim  of 
the  moon  should  appear  above  the  distant  waters,  was  nigh  at  hand. 
Another  snowy  cloud  floated  into  view,  and  just  as  the  signal  to  fire  was 
about  to  be  given  by  the  great  medicine  man,  Ne-mo-a-Kim  suddenly 
burst  through  the  crowd,  and  threw  himself  upon  the  ground  before  his 
brother  Ma-Ko-nah.  To  describe  the  confusion  which  followed  were 
quite  impossible.  It  were  sufficient  to  know  that  Ma-Ko-nah  was 
released  from  his  obligation,  and  while  he  was  to  continue  in  the  land 
of  the  living,  his  repentant  brother  was  to  perish.  But  though  he 
now  yielded  himself  as  a  willing  sacrifice,  his  integrity  had  been 
doubted,  and  the  lately  untouched  thongs  were  used  to  bind  him  to 
the  stake.  All  things  were  again  ready,  the  signal  was  given,  the 
loud  twang  of  the  bow-strings  pulled  at  the  same  instant  was  heard, 
and  the  Chippeway  murderer  was  weltering  in  his  own  blood. 

The  night  was  far  spent,  the  silence  of  the  grave  rested  upon  the 
wilderness  village,  and  all  the  Indians,  save  one,  were  asleep  in  their 


202  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

wigwams.  But  Ma-Ko-nah  was  filled  with  grief,  and  the  remaining 
hours  of  that  night  did  he  spend  in  his  lodge,  mourning  over  the  body 
of  his  unfortunate  and  only  brother.  His  father  and  mother  were 
both  dead,  and  so  also  was  his  wife,  and  the  heart  of  Ma-Ko-nah  was 
very  desolate.  So  endeth  the  story  of  The  Fire-Water  Sacrifice. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  203 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    CATAWBA   INDIANS. 

THERE  was  a  time  when  the  world  was  an  unbroken  waste  of  rocks, 
hills,  and  mountains,  save  only  one  small  valley,  which  was  distin 
guished  for  its  luxuriance,  and  where  reigned  a  perpetual  summer.  At 
that  time,  too,  the  only  human  being  who  inhabited  the  earth  was  a 
woman,  whose  knowledge  was  confined  to  this  valley,  and  who  is  re 
membered  among  the  Catawbas  as  the  mother  of  mankind.  She  lived 
in  a  cavern,  and  her  food  consisted  of  the  honey  of  flowers,  and  the 
sweet  berries  and  other  fruits  of  the  wilderness.  Birds  without  num 
ber,  and  the  wild  streams  which  found  a  resting  place  in  the  valley, 
made  the  only  music  which  she  ever  heard.  Among  the  wild  animals, 
which  were  very  numerous  about  her  home,  she  wandered  without  any 
danger ;  but  the  beaver  and  the  doe  were  her  favorite  companions.  In 
personal  appearance  she  was  eminently  beautiful,  and  the  lapse  of 
years  only  had  a  tendency  to  increase  the  brightness  of  her  eyes  and 
the  grace  of  her  movements.  The  dress  she  wore  was  made  of  those 
bright  green  leaves  which  enfold  the  water  lilies,  and  her  hair  was  as 
long  as  the  grass  which  fringed  the  waters  of  her  native  vale.  She 
was  the  ruling  spirit  of  a  perennial  world,  for  even  the  very  flowers 
which  bloomed  about  her  sylvan  home  were  never  known  to  wither  or 
die.  In  spite  of  her  lonely  condition,  she  knew  not  what  it  was  to  be 
lonely ;  but  ever  and  anon  a  strange  desire  found  its  way  to  her  heart, 
which  impelled  her  to  explore  the  wild  country  which  surrounded  her 
home.  For  many  days  had  she  resisted  the  temptation  to  become  a 
wanderer  from  her  charming  valley,  until  it  so  happened,  on  a  certain 
morning,  that  a  scarlet  butterfly  made  its  appearance  before  the  door 
of  her  cave,  and  by  the  hum  of  its  wings  invited  her  away.  She 
obeyed  the  summons,  and  followed  the  butterfly  far  up  a  rocky  ravine, 
until  she  came  to  the  foot  of  a  huge  waterfall,  when  she  was  deserted 
by  her  mysterious  pilot,  and  first  became  acquainted  with  the  emotion 


204  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

of  fear.  Her  passage  of  the  ravine  had  been  comparatively  smooth ; 
but  when  she  endeavored,  in  her  consternation,  to  retrace  her  steps, 
she  found  her  efforts  unavailing,  and  fell  to  the  ground  in  despair.  A 
deep  sleep  then  overcame  her  senses,  from  which  she  was  not  awakened 
until  the  night  was  far  spent ;  and  then  the  dampness  of  the  dew  had 
fallen  upon  her  soft  limbs,  and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  did  she  feel 
the  pang  of  a  bodily  pain.  Forlorn  and  desolate  indeed,  was  her  con 
dition,  and  she  felt  that  some  great  event  was  about  to  happen,  when, 
as  she  uncovered  her  face  and  turned  it  to  the  sky,  she  beheld,  bend 
ing  over  her  prostrate  form,  and  clothed  in  a  cloud-like  robe,  the  image 
of  a  being  somewhat  resembling  herself,  only  that  he  was  more  stoutly 
made,  and  of  a  much  fiercer  aspect.  Her  first  emotion  at  this  strange 
discovery  was  that  of  terror;  but  as  the  mysterious  being  looked  upon 
her  in  kindness,  and  raised  her  lovingly  from  the  ground,  she  confided 
in  his  protection,  and  listened  to  his  words  until  the  break  of  day. 

He  told  her  that  he  was  a  native  of  the  far  off  sky,  and  that  he  had 
discovered  her  in  her  forlorn  condition  while  traveling  from  the  evening 
to  the  morning  star.  He  told  her  also  that  he  had  never  before  seen 
a  being  so  soft  and  beautifully  formed  as  she.  In  coming  to  her  rescue 
he  had  broken  a  command  of  the  Great  Spirit,  or  the  Master  of  Life, 
and,  as  he  was  afraid  to  return  to  the  sky,  he  desired  to  spend  his  days 
in  her  society  upon  earth.  With  joy  did  she  accept  this  proposal ; 
and,  as  the  sun  rose  above  the  distant  mountains,  the  twain  returned 
in  safety  to  the  luxuriant  vale,  where,  as  man  and  woman,  for  many 
moons,  they  lived  and  loved  in  perfect  tranquillity  and  joy. 

In  process  of  time  the  woman  became  a  mother;  from  which  time 
the  happiness  of  the  twain  became  more  intense,  but  they  at  the  same 
time  endured  more  troubles  than  they  had  ever  known  before.  The 
man  was  unhappy  because  he  had  offended  the  Master  of  Life,  and  the 
mother  was  anxious  about  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  her  newly-born 
child.  Many  and  devout  were  the  prayers  they  offered  to  the  Great 
Spirit  for  his  guidance  and  protection,  for  they  felt  that  from  them  were 
to  be  descended  a  race  of  beings  more  numerous  than  the  stars  of 
heaven.  The  Great  Spirit  had  compassion  on  these  lone  inhabitants 
of  the  earth ;  and,  in  answer  to  their  prayers,  he  caused  a  mighty  wind 
to  pass  over  the  world,  making  the  mountains  crowd  closely  together, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  205 

and  rendering  the  world  more  useful  and  beautiful  by  the  prairies  and 
valleys  and  rivers  which  now  cover  it,  from  the  rising  to  the  setting 
sun.  The  Master  of  Life  also  told  his  children  that  he  would  give 
them  the  earth  and  all  that  it  contained  as  their  inheritance;  but  that 
they  should  never  enjoy  their  food  without  labor,  should  be  annually 
exposed  to  a  season  of  bitter  cold,  and  that  their  existence  should  be 
limited  by  that  period  of  time  when  their  heads  should  become  as  white 
as  the  plumage  of  the  swan.  And  so  endeth  the  words  of  the  Ca- 
tawba. 


18 


206  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    LONG    CHASE. 

IT  was  a  summer  day,  and  my  birchen  canoe,  paddled  by  a  party  of 
Chippeway  Indians,  was  gliding  along  the  southern  shore  of  Lake 
Superior.  We  had  left  the  Apostle  Islands,  and  were  wending  our 
way  towards  the  mouth  of  the  Ontonagon,  where  we  intended  to  spend 
the  night.  Behind  us  reposed  in  beauty  the  Emerald  Islands,  in  our 
front  appeared  the  Porcupine  Mountains,  the  sky  above  was  without  a 
cloud,  and  the  waste  of  sleeping  waters  was  only  broken  by  the  pre 
sence  of  a  lonely  swan,  which  seemed  to  be  following  in  our  wake,  ap 
parently  for  the  sake  of  our  companionship.  I  was  delighted  with  the 
scene  which  surrounded  me,  and  having  requested  my  comrades  to 
refill  their  pipes  from  my  tobacco-pouch,  I  inquired  for  an  adventure 
or  a  story  connected  with  this  portion  of  the  lake.  I  waited  but  for  a 
moment,  when  the  chief  of  the  party,  0-yce-maw-ge-zhick,  or  Chief 
of  the  Sky,  signified  his  intention  by  a  sudden  exclamation,  and  pro 
ceeded  with  the  following  historical  tradition  : 

The  Indian  warrior  of  other  days  seldom  thought  that  distance 
ought  to  be  considered  when  he  went  forth  to  battle  against  his  ene 
mies,  provided  he  was  certain  of  winning  the  applause  of  his  fellow 
men.  Fatigue  and  hunger  were  alike  looked  upon  as  unimportant 
considerations,  and  both  endured  without  a  murmur. 

The  white  man  had  not  yet  become  the  owner  of  this  wilderness, 
and  our  nation  was  at  war  with  the  Iroquois,  who  had  invaded  our 
territory.  At  this  time  it  was  that  a  party  of  six  Iroquois  runners  had 
been  sent  by  their  leading  chiefs  from  Ke-wa-we-non,  on  the  southern 
shore  of  Lake  Superior,  to  examine  the  position  of  the  Chippeways, 
who  were  supposed  to  be  on  an  island  called  Moo-ne-quah-na-kon-ing. 
The  spies  having  arrived  opposite  to  the  island  where  their  enemies 
were  encamped  (which  island  was  about  three  miles  from  the  main 
shore),  they  built  a  war-canoe  out  of  the  bark  of  an  elm-tree,  launched 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  207 

it  at  the  hour  of  midnight,  and,  having  implored  the  god  of  war  to 
smile  upon  them  and  keep  the  lake  in  peace,  they  landed  on  the 
island,  and  were  soon  prowling  through  the  village  of  the  unconscious 
Chippeways. 

They  were  so  cautious  in  all  their  movements,  that  their  footsteps 
did  not  even  awaken  the  sleeping  dogs.  It  so  happened,  however, 
that  they  were  discovered,  and  that,  too,  Iby  a  young  woman,  who, 
according  to  ancient  custom,  was  leading  a  solitary  life  previous  to  be 
coming  a  mother.  In  her  wakefulness  she  saw  them  pass  near  her 
lodge  and  heard  them  speak,  but  could  not  understand  their  words, 
though  she  thought  them  to  be  of  the  Na-do-was  tribe.  When  they 
had  passed,  she  stole  out  of  her  own  wigwam  to  that  of  her  aged 
grandmother,  whom  she  informed  of  what  she  had  seen  and  heard. 
The  aged  woman  only  reprimanded  her  daughter  for  her  imprudence, 
and  did  not  heed  her  words.  "  But,  mother/'  replied  the  girl,  "  I 
speak  the  truth ;  the  dreaded  Na-do-was  are  in  our  village ;  and  if  the 
warriors  of  the  Buffalo  Race  do  not  heed  the  story  of  a  foolish  girl, 
their  women  and  their  children  must  perish."  The  words  of  the  girl 
were  finally  believed,  and  the  warriors  of  the  Crane  and  Buffalo  tribes 
prepared  themselves  for  the  capture.  The  war-whoop  echoed  to  the 
sky ;  and  the  rattling  of  bows  and  arrows  was  heard  in  every  part  of 
the  island.  In  about  an  hour,  the  main  shore  was  lined  with  about 
eight  hundred  canoes,  whose  occupants  were  anxiously  waiting  for  the 
appearance  of  the  spies.  These  desperate  men,  however,  had  made  up 
their  minds  to  try  the  mettle  of  their  oars  to  the  utmost,  and,  as  the 
day  was  breaking,  they  launched  their  canoe  from  a  woody  cove,  shot 
round  the  island,  and  started  in  the  direction  of  the  Porcupine 
Mountains,  which  were  about  sixty  miles  distant.  Soon  as  they  came 
in  sight  of  the  Chippeways,  the  latter  became  quite  frantic,  and,  giving 
their  accustomed  yell,  the  whole  multitude  started  after  them  swift  as 
the  flight  of  gulls.  The  mighty  lake  was  without  a  ripple ;  and  the 
beautiful  fish  in  its  bosom  wandered  about  their  rocky  haunts  in  per 
fect  peace,  unconscious  of  the  dreadful  strife  which  was  going  on 
above.  The  canoes  of  the  pursued  and  the  pursuers  moved  with  magic 
speed.  The  Iroquois  were  some  two  miles  ahead,  and  while  they 
strained  every  nerve  for  life,  one  voice  rose  high  into  the  air,  with  a 


208  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

song  of  invocation  to  the  spirits  of  their  race  for  protection ;  and,  in 
answer  to  their  petition,  a  thick  fog  fell  upon  the  water,  and  caused 
great  confusion.  One  of  the  Chippeway  warriors  laid  down  his  pad 
dle,  seized  his  mysterious  rattle  (made  of  deer's  hoof),  and,  in  a 
strange,  wild  song,  implored  the  spirits  of  his  race  to  clear  away  the 
fog,  that  they  might  only  see  their  enemies.  The  burthen  of  the  song 
was : — 

"  Mon-e-tou  ne  bah  bah  me  tali  wah 
Ke  shig  ne  bah  bah  me  tah  goon 
Ah  bee  ne  nah  wah  goom  me  goon 
Men  ke  die  dah  awas — awas." 

Which  may  be  translated  as  follows : — 

"  Spirit !  whom  I  have  always  obeyed, 
Here  cause  the  skies  now  to  obey, 
And  place  the  waters  in  our  power. 
We  are  warriors — away,  away." 

Just  as  the  last  strain  died  upon  the  air,  the  fog  quickly  rolled  away, 
and  the  Iroquois  spies  were  discovered  hastening  towards  the  shore, 
near  Montreal  river.  Then  came  the  fog  again,  and  then  departed, 
in  answer  to  the  conflicting  prayers  of  the  nations.  Long  and  awfully 
exciting  was  the  race.  But  the  Great  Spirit  was  the  friend  of  the 
Chippeway,  and  just  as  the  Iroquois  were  landing  on  the  beach,  four 
of  them  were  pierced  with  arrows,  and  the  remaining  two  taken  pri 
soners.  A  council  was  then  called,  for  the  purpose  of  deciding  what 
should  be  done  with  them;  and  it  was  determined  that  they  should 
be  tortured  at  the  stake.  They  were  fastened  to  a  tree,  and  surrounded 
with  wood,  when,  just  as  the  torch  was  to  be  applied,  an  aged  warrior 
stepped  forth  from  the  crowd  of  spectators,  and  thus  addressed  the 
assembly  : — 

"  Why  are  you  to  destroy  these  men  ?  They  are  brave  warriors, 
but  not  more  distinguished  than  we  are.  We  can  gain  no  benefit 
from  their  death.  Why  will  you  not  let  them  live,  that  they  may  go 
and  tell  their  people  of  our  power,  and  that  our  warriors  are  numerous 
as  the  stars  of  the  northern  sky."  The  council  pondered  upon  the  old 
man's  advice,  and  there  was  a  struggle  between  their  love  of  revenge 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  209 

and  love  of  glory;  but  both  became  victorious.  One  of  the  spies  was 
released,  and,  as  he  ascended  a  narrow  valley,  leading  to  the  Porcupine 
Mountains,  the  fire  was  applied  to  the  dry  wood  piled  round  the  form 
of  the  other ;  and  in  the  darkness  of  midnight,  and  amid  the  shouting 
of  his  cruel  enemies,  the  body  of  the  Iroquois  prisoner  was  consumed 
to  ashes.  The  spot  where  the  sacrifice  took  place  has  been  riven  by 
many  a  thunderbolt  since  then,  for  the  god  of  war  was  displeased  with 
the  faintheartedness  of  the  Chippeway,  in  valuing  a  name  more  highly 
than  the  privilege  of  revenge ;  and  the  same  summer,  of  the  following 
year,  which  saw  the  humane  Chippeway  buried  on  the  shore  of  Su 
perior,  also  saw  the  remains  of  the  pardoned  spy  consigned  to  the 
earth  on  the  shore  of  Michigan. 

Thus  endeth  the  legend  of  Shah-gah-wah-mik,  one  of  the  Apostle 
Islands,  which  the  French  named  La  Pointe,  and  which  was  originally 
known  as  Moo-ne-quah-na-kon-ing.  The  village  stood  where  the  old 
trading  establishment  is  now  located ;  and  among  the  greenest  of  the 
graves  in  the  hamlet  of  La  Pointe  is  that  where  lie  the  remains  of  the 
Indian  girl  who  exposed  herself  to  reproach  for  the  purpose  of  saving 
her  people. 


18* 


210  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    LONE    BUFFALO. 

AMONG  the  legends  which  the  traveler  frequently  hears,  while  cross 
ing  the  prairies  of  the  Far  West,  I  remember  one  which  accounts  in 
a  most  romantic  manner  for  the  origin  of  thunder.  A  summer-storm 
was  sweeping  over  the  land,  and  I  had  sought  a  temporary  shelter  in 
the  lodge  of  a  Sioux,  or  Dahcotah  Indian  on  the  banks  of  the  St. 
Peters.  Vividly  flashed  the  lightning,  and  an  occasional  peal  of 
thunder  echoed  through  the  firmament.  While  the  storm  continued 
my  host  and  his  family  paid  but  little  attention  to  my  comfort,  for 
they  were  all  evidently  stricken  with  terror.  I  endeavored  to  quell 
their  fears,  and  for  that  purpose  asked  them  a  variety  of  questions 
respecting  their  people,  but  they  only  replied  by  repeating,  in  a  dismal 
tone,  the  name  of  the  Lone  Buffalo.  My  curiosity  was  of  course  ex 
cited,  and  it  may  be  readily  imagined  that  I  did  not  resume  my  jour 
ney  without  obtaining  an  explanation  of  the  mystic  words ;  and  from 
him  who  first  uttered  them  in  the  Sioux  lodge  I  subsequently  obtain 
ed  the  following  legend  :— 

There  was  a  chief  of  the  Sioux  nation  whose  name  was  the  Master 
Bear.  He  was  famous  as  a  prophet  and  hunter,  and  was  a  particular 
favorite  with  the  Master  of  Life.  In  an  evil  hour  he  partook  of  the 
white  man's  fire-water,  and  in  a  fighting  broil  unfortunately  took  the 
life  of  a  brother  chief.  According  to  ancient  custom  blood  was  de 
manded  for  blood,  and  when  next  the  Master  Bear  went  forth  to  hunt, 
he  was  waylaid,  shot  through  the  heart  with  an  arrow,  and  his  body 
deposited  in  front  of  his  widow's  lodge.  Bitterly  did  the  woman  be 
wail  her  misfortune,  now  mutilating  her  body  in  the  most  heroic  man 
ner,  and  anon  narrating  to  her  only  son,  a  mere  infant,  the  prominent 
events  of  her  husband's  life.  Night  came,  and  with  her  child  lashed 
upon  her  back,  the  woman  erected  a  scaffold  on  the  margin  of  a  neigh 
boring  stream,  and  with  none  to  lend  her  a  helping  hand,  enveloped 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  211 

the  corpse  in  her  more  valuable  robes,  and  fastened  it  upon  the  scaffold. 
She  completed  her  task  just  as  the  day  was  breaking,  when  she  re 
turned  to  her  lodge,  and  shutting  herself  therein,  spent  the  three  fol 
lowing  days  without  tasting  food. 

During  her  retirement  the  widow  had  a  dream,  in  which  she  was 
visited  by  the  Master  of  Life.  He  endeavored  to  console  her  in  her 
sorrow,  and  for  the  reason  that  he  had  loved  her  husband,  promised 
to  make  her  son  a  more  famous  warrior  and  medicine  man  than  his 
father  had  been.  And  what  was  more  remarkable,  this  prophecy  was 
to  be  realized  within  the  period  of  a  few  weeks.  She  told  her  story  in 
the  village,  and  was  laughed  at  for  her  credulity. 

On  the  following  day,  when  the  village  boys  were  throwing  the  ball 
upon  the  plain,  a  noble  youth  suddenly  made  his  appearance  among 
the  players,  and  eclipsed  them  all  in  the  bounds  he  made  and  the  wild- 
ness  of  his  shouts.  He  was  a  stranger  to  all,  but  when  the  widow's 
dream  was  remembered,  he  was  recognized  as  her  son,  and  treated  with 
respect.  But  the  youth  was  yet  without  a  name,  for  his  mother  had 
told  him  that  he  should  win  one  for  himself  by  his  individual  prowess. 

Only  a  few  days  had  elapsed,  when  it  was  rumored  that  a  party  of 
Pawnees  had  overtaken  and  destroyed  a  Sioux  hunter,  when  it  was  im 
mediately  determined  in  council  that  a  party  of  one  hundred  warriors 
should  start  upon  the  war-path  and  revenge  the  injury.  Another 
council  was  held  for  the  purpose  of  appointing  a  leader,  when  a  young- 
man  suddenly  entered  the  ring  and  claimed  the  privilege  of  leading 
the  way.  His  authority  was  angrily  questioned,  but  the  stranger 
only  replied  by  pointing  to  the  brilliant  eagle's  feathers  on  his  head, 
and  by  shaking  from  his  belt  a  large  number  of  fresh  Pawnee  scalps. 
They  remembered  the  stranger  boy,  and  acknowledged  the  supremacy 
of  the  stranger  man. 

Night  settled  upon  the  prairie  world,  and  the  Sioux  warriors  started 
upon  the  war-path.  Morning  dawned,  and  a  Pawnee  village  was  in 
ashes,  and  the  bodies  of  many  hundred  men,  women,  and  children 
were  left  upon  the  ground  as  food  for  the  wolf  and  vulture.  The  Sioux 
warriors  returned  to  their  own  encampment,  when  it  was  ascertained 
that  the  nameless  leader  had  taken  more  than  twice  as  many  scalps  as 
his  brother  warriors.  Then  it  was  that  a  feeling  of  jealousy  arose, 


212  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

which  was  soon  quieted,  however,  by  the  news  that  the  Crow  Indians 
had  stolen  a  number  of  horses  and  many  valuable  furs  from  a  Sioux 
hunter  as  he  was  returning  from  the  mountains.  Another  warlike 
expedition  was  planned;  and  as  before,  the  nameless  warrior  took  the 
lead. 

The  sun  was  near  his  setting,  and  as  the  Sioux  party  looked  down 
upon  a  Crow  village,  which  occupied  the  centre  of  a  charming  valley, 
the  Sioux  chief  commanded  the  attention  of  his  braves  and  addressed 
them  in  the  following  language  : 

"  I  am  about  to  die,  my  brothers,  and  must  speak  my  mind.  To 
be  fortunate  in  war  is  your  chief  ambition,  and  because  I  have  been 
successful  you  are  unhappy.  Is  this  right  ?  Have  you  acted  like 
men  ?  I  despise  you  for  your  meanness,  and  I  intend  to  prove  to  you 
this  night  that  I  am  the  bravest  man  in  the  nation.  The  task  will 
cost  me  my  life,  but  I  am  anxious  that  my  nature  should  be  changed 
and  I  shall  be  satisfied.  I  intend  to  enter  the  Crow  village  alone,  but 
before  departing,  I  have  one  favor  to  command.  If  I  succeed  in  de 
stroying  that  village,  and  lose  my  life,  I  want  you,  when  I  am  dead, 
to  cut  off  my  head  and  protect  it  with  care.  You  must  then  kill  one 
of  the  largest  buffaloes  in  the  country  and  cut  off  his  head.  You  must 
then  bring  his  body  and  my  head  together,  and  breathe  upon  them, 
when  I  shall  be  free  to  roam  in  the  Spirit-land  at  all  times,  and  over 
our  great  prairie-land  wherever  I  please.  And  when  your  hearts  are 
troubled  with  wickedness  remember  the  Lone  Buffalo." 

The  attack  upon  the  Crow  village  was  successful,  but  according  to 
his  prophecy  the  Lone  Buffalo  received  his  death  wound,  and  his 
brother  warriors  remembered  his  parting  request.  The  fate  of  the 
hero's  mother  is  unknown,  but  the  Indians  believe  that  it  is  she  who 
annually  sends  from  the  Spirit  land  the  warm  winds  of  spring,  which 
cover  the  prairies  with  grass  for  the  sustenance  of  the  Buffalo  race. 
As  to  the  Lone  Buffalo,  he  is  never  seen  even  by  the  most  cunning 
hunter,  excepting  when  the  moon  is  at  its  full.  At  such  times  he  is 
invariably  alone,  cropping  his  food  in  some  remote  part  of  the  prairies; 
and  whenever  the  heavens  resound  with  the  moanings  of  the  thunder, 
the  red  man  banishes  from  his  breast  every  feeling  of  jealousy,  for  he 
believes  it  to  be  the  warning  voice  of  the  Lone  Buffalo. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  218 


LEGENDS    OF    MACKINAW. 

THE  original  Indian  name  of  this  island  was  Mich-il-i-mack-i-nack, 
signifying  the  mammoth  turtle.  It  is  a  beautiful  spot  of  earth,  and 
its  origin  is  accounted  for  by  the  following  Ottaway  legend : — 

When  the  world  was  in  its  infancy,  and  all  the  living  creatures  were 
wandering  over  its  surface  from  their  several  birth-places,  for  a  perma 
nent  home,  it  so  happened  that  a  multitude  of  turtles  came  to  the 
southern  shore  of  Lake  Erie.  They  found  the  country  generally  level, 
and  were  delighted  with  the  muddy  waters  of  the  lake,  and  also  with 
the  many  stagnant  rivers  and  ponds  which  they  discovered  in  its  vici 
nity.  But  while  the  race  were  generally  satisfied  with  their  discove 
ries,  and  willing  to  remain  where  they  were,  the  mammoth  leader  of 
the  multitude  resolved  upon  extending  his  journey  to  the  north.  He 
was  allured  to  this  undertaking  by  a  strange  light  of  exceeding  loveli 
ness  (supposed  to  be  the  Aurora  Borealis),  which  he  had  frequently 
observed  covering  the  horizon.  He  endeavored  to  obtain  a  few  com 
panions  for  his  intended  pilgrimage,  but  without  success.  This  dis 
appointment  did  not  dishearten  him,  however,  and  as  he  remembered 
that  the  summer  was  only  half  gone,  he  determined  to  depart  alone. 
Long  and  very  circuitous  was  his  journey,  and  many,  beautiful  and 
lonely,  the  bayous  and  swamps  where  he  frequently  tarried  to  rest 
himself  and  obtain  refreshment.  Summer,  and  nearly  the  whole  of 
autumn  were  now  passed,  and  the  traveling  turtle  found  himself  on  a 
point  of  land  which  partially  divided  the  two  lakes  of  Huron  and 
Michigan.  Already  he  had  been  numbed  by  chilly  winds,  but  his 
ambition  was  so  great  that  he  still  persisted  in  his  foolish  pilgrimage. 
The  day  on  which  he  made  his  final  launch  upon  the  waters,  was  par 
ticularly  cold  and  desolate,  and  it  so  happened  that  in  the  course  of 
a  few  days  his  career  was  stopped  by  the  formation  of  an  icy  barrier, 


214  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

which  deprived  him  of  life  and  left  him,  a  little  black  spot,  on  the  waste 
of  frozen  waters. 

Spring  returned  once  more,  but  while  the  ice  gradually  dissolved 
itself  into  beautiful  blue  waves,  the  shell  of  the  turtle  was  fastened  to 
a  marine  plant  or  tall  reed,  and  in  process  of  time  became  an  island, 
which  the  Indians  appropriately  named  Mich-il-i-mack-i-nack,  or  the 
Mammoth  Turtle. 

The  individual  from  whom  I  obtained  the  above  story  was  an  Otta- 
way  Indian ;  and  he  told  it  to  me  as  we  sat  together  on  the  brow  of  the 
arched  rock  which  has,  from  time  immemorial,  been  considered  the 
principal  natural  curiosity  of  Mackinaw.  The  following  legend  I  ob 
tained  from  the  same  source,  and,  like  the  majority  of  Indian  stories,  it 
is  uncouth  and  unnatural ;  but  interesting  for  the  reason  that  it  bears  a 
curious  analogy  to  a  certain  passage  in  the  Old  Testament.  But  this 
remark  is  applicable,  I  believe,  to  the  early  traditions  of  nearly  all  the 
aboriginal  nations  of  North  America.  But  to  the  tradition : — 

Very  many  winters  ago,  the  sun  was  regularly  in  the  habit  of  per 
forming  his  daily  circuit  across  the  heavens,  and  when  the  stars  made 
their  appearance  in  the  sky,  he  invariably  descended  into  an  immense 
hole  supposed  to  be  located  in  the  remote  west.  But  in  process  of  time 
it  so  happened  that  a  chief  of  the  Ottaways  committed  an  unheard  of 
crime  against  the  person  of  his  only  daughter,  and  the  Master  of  Life 
became  so  offended,  that  he  caused  a  mighty  wind  to  come  upon  the 
earth,  whereby  the  rocky  hills  were  made  to  tremble,  and  the  waters 
which  surrounded  them  to  roar  with  a  dreadful  noise.  During  this 
state  of  things,  which  lasted  for  one  whole  day,  the  sun  shot  through 
the  heavens  with  an  unsteady  motion,  and  when  it  had  reached  the 
zenith  suddenly  became  fixed,  as  if  astonished  at  the  red  man's  wick 
edness.  All  the  people  of  the  Ottaway  nation  were  greatly  alarmed 
at  this  phenomenon,  and  while  they  were  gazing  upon  the  luminary, 
it  gradually  changed  into  the  color  of  blood,  and  with  a  dreadful  noise, 
as  if  in  a  passion,  it  fell  upon  the  earth.  It  struck  the  northern  shore 
of  Mackinaw,  formed  the  cavity  of  the  Arched  Rock,  and  so  entered 
the  earth,  from  which  it  issued  in  the  far  east,  at  an  early  hour  on  the 
following  morning,  and  then  resumed  its  usual  journey  across  the 
heavens. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  215 

Many,  very  many  winters  have  passed  away  since  the  last  men 
tioned  incident  occurred,  and  it  is  true  that  even  the  present  race  of 
Indians  can  seldom  be  persuaded  to  approach  the  brow  of  the  Arched 
Rock.  Never  have  I  heard  of  one  who  was  sufficiently  bold  to  walk 
over  the  arch,  though  the  feat  might  be  easily  accomplished  by  any 
man  with  a  steady  nerve.  The  shores  of  the  island  of  Mackinaw  are 
almost  entirely  abrupt — and  their  general  altitude  is  about  one  hun 
dred  and  fifty  feet;  but  the  summit  of  the  Arched  Rock  has  been 
estimated  to  be  at  least  two  hundred  feet  above  the  water.  In  con 
nection  with  the  above  stories,  I  might  introduce  a  description  of  the 
island  they  commemorate,  but  such  a  description  has  already  been 
published  in  my  "  Summer  in  the  Wilderness." 


216  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


GREEN-CORN  CEREMONIES  OF  THE  CHEROKEES. 

MY  main  object  ID  the  present  paper  is  to  record  a  complete  account 
of  the  ceremonies  which  were  once  practised  by  the  Cherokee  Indians, 
in  connection  with  their  principal  agricultural  pursuit  of  raising  maize 
or  Indian  corn.  For  the  great  majority  of  my  facts  I  am  indebted  to 
Mr.  Preston  Starritt,  of  Tennessee.  While  this  is  the  case,  how 
ever,  I  beg  my  readers  to  understand  that  I  shall  speak  of  the  tribe  in 
question  as  it  existed  in  the  times  of  old,  when  its  members  were  the 
sole  proprietors  of  the  southern  Alleghanies.  Let  us,  then,  banish 
from  our  minds  the  unhappy  relations  which  brood  over  the  Cherokees 
at  the  present  time,  and,  by  the  aid  of  our  fancy,  mingle  with  the 
nation  as  it  existed  when  in  its  pristine  glory. 

The  snows  of  winter  have  melted  from  the  mountain  peaks,  the 
rains  are  over  and  gone,  the  frosts  are  out  of  the  ground,  and  the 
voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  the  land.  The  beautiful  valley  to  which 
we  have  journeyed  is  entirely  surrounded  with  mountains,  about  five 
miles  square,  watered  by  a  charming  stream,  and  inhabited  by  two 
thousand  aborigines,  who  are  divided  into  seven  clans,  and  located  in 
seven  villages.  The  ruling  men  of  the  tribe  have  signified  to  their 
people  that  the  period  for  planting  corn  has  arrived,  and  that  they 
must  gather  themselves  together  for  the  purpose  of  submitting  to  the 
annual  ceremonies  of  purification.  For  doing  this  they  have  a  double 
object:  they  would,  in  the  first  place,  expunge  from  their  bodies  every 
vestige  of  all  the  colds  and  diseases  with  which  they  may  have  been 
afflicted  during  the  past  winter ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  they  would 
propitiate  the  Great  Spirit,  so  as  to  secure  his  blessing  upon  the  crops 
which  they  are  about  to  deposite  in  the  ground.  The  moon  being 
now  at  its  full,  and  a  fitting  location  having  been  selected,  the  chiefs 
and  magicians  congregate  together,  and  the  preliminary  measures  are 
thus  managed.  A  magic  circle  is  made  to  keep  out  all  evil  spirits 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  217 

and  enemies,  and  the  medicine  men  then  proceed  to  walk  in  single  file, 
and  with  measured  steps,  completely  around  the  spot  which  they  would 
render  sacred,  and  which  is  generally  half  a  mile  in  diameter,  mark 
ing  their  route  by  plucking  a  single  leaf  from  every  tree  or  bush 
which  they  may  happen  to  pass,  all  these  leaves  being  carefully  de 
posited  in  a  pouch  carried  for  the  purpose.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
brotherhood  of  chiefs  have  not  been  unemployed,  for  while  the  most 
aged  individual  of  all  has  been  making  a  collection  of  roots,  the  re 
mainder  have  built  a  rude  dam,  and  thereby  formed  a  pond  or  pool  of 
water  on  the  creek  which  invariably  waters  the  sacred  enclosure.  The 
entire  population  of  the  valley  are  now  summoned  to  the  outskirts  of 
the  sacred  enclosure,  and  a  general  invitation  extended  to  all  to  ap 
proach  and  join  the  chiefs  and  magicians  in  the  rite  they  are  about  to 
perform;  it  being  understood,  however,  that  no  man,  under  penalty  of 
death,  shall  venture  to  participate  who  has  left  a  single  wrong  unre- 
venged  or  committed  any  unmanly  deed,  and  no  woman  who  has  given 
birth  to  a  child  since  the  preceding  full  moon.  In  the  centre  of  the 
sacred  ground,  and  in  the  vicinity  of  the  pool,  a  large  fire  is  now 
made,  around  which  the  multitude  are  congregated.  The  night  is 
clear,  and  the  moon  and  stars  are  flooding  the  earth  with  light.  An 
earthen  pot  is  now  placed  upon  the  fire,  the  roots  gathered  by  the  old 
chief,  numbering  seven  varieties,  are  placed  therein,  also  the  leaves 
plucked  by  the  magicians,  when  the  pot  is  filled  with  water  by  seven 
virgins,  who  are  promoted  to  this  honor  by  the  appointment  of  the 
senior  chief.  After  the  contents  of  the  pot  have  been  thoroughly 
boiled,  and  a  most  bitter  but  medicinal  beverage  been  made,  all  the 
persons  present  are  called  upon  to  take  seven  sips  of  the  bitter  liquid, 
and  then  directed  to  bathe  no  less  than  seven  times  in  the  neighboring 
pool,  the  waters  of  which  have  been  rendered  sacred  by  the  incanta 
tions  of  the  priests.  All  these  things  being  done,  the  multitude  as 
semble  around  the  fire  once  more,  and,  to  the  music  of  a  strange  wild 
singing,  they  dance  until  the  break  of  day,  and  then  disperse  to  then- 
several  homes.  The  friendship  of  the  Great  Spirit  has  now  been 
secured,  and  therefore,  as  opportunity  offers,  the  Indians  proceed  to 
loosen  their  ground,  as  best  they  may,  and  then  plant  their  corn. 
This  labor  is  performed  chiefly  by  the  women,  and  the  planted  fields 
19 


218  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

are  considered  as  under  their  especial  charge.  Though  planted  in  the 
greatest  disorder,  they  keep  their  cornfields  entirely  free  of  weeds,  and 
the  soil  immediately  around  the  corn  in  a  loose  condition.  At  every 
full  moon  they  are  commonly  apprehensive  that  some  calamity  may 
befall  their  crop,  and,  by  way  of  keeping  the  Great  Spirit  on  their  side, 
the  women  have  a  custom  of  disrobing  themselves,  at  the  dead  hour  of 
night,  and  of  walking  entirely  around  the  field  of  corn. 

And  now  that  the  sunshine  and  showers  of  summer  are  performing 
their  ministry  of  good  in  bringing  the  corn  to  its  wonted  perfection, 
it  may  be  well  to  make* the  reader  acquainted  with  the  following  facts: 
As  the  Indians  purify  themselves  and  perform  all  their  religious  rites 
only  when  the  moon  is  at  its  full,  so  do  they  refrain  from  plucking  a 
single  ear  of  corn  until  they  have  partaken  of  their  annual  harvest  or 
green-corn  feast.  This  feast  occurs  on  that  night  of  the  full  moon 
nearest  to  the  period  when  the  corn  becomes  ripe ;  and,  by  a  time- 
honored  law  of  the  nation,  no  man,  woman,  or  child  is  ever  permitted, 
under  penalty  of  death,  to  pluck  a  single  roasting-ear.  So  rigidly  en 
forced  is  this  law  that  many  Cherokees  are  known  to  have  lost  their 
lives  for  disobeying  it,  while  many  families  have  suffered  the  pangs  of 
hunger  for  many  days,  even  while  their  fields  were  filled  with  corn, 
merely  because  the  harvest  moon  had  not  yet  arrived,  and  they  had 
not  partaken  of  their  annual  feast.  If  a  full  moon  should  occur  only 
one  week  after  the  corn  has  become  suitable  to  pluck,  the  Indians  will 
not  touch  a  single  ear  until  the  next  moon,  even  if  it  should  then  be 
so  hard  as  to  require  pounding  before  becoming  suitable  for  food. 
During  the  ripening  period  the  cornfields  are  watched  with  jealous 
care,  and  the  first  stalk  that  throws  out  its  silken  plume  is  designated 
by  a  distinguishing  mark.  In  assigning  reasons  for  this  peculiar  care, 
the  Indians  allege  that  until  the  harvest  feast  has  taken  place  the  corn 
is  exclusively  the  property  of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  that  they  are  only 
its  appointed  guardians ;  and'  they  also  maintain  that,  when  the  corn  is 
plucked  before  the  appointed  moon  has  arrived,  the  field  which  has  thus 
been  trespassed  upon  is  sure  to  be  prostrated  by  a  storm  or  be  afflicted 
with  the  rot ;  and  wherefore  it  is  that  they  are  always  greatly  alarmed 
when  they  discover  that  a  cornfield  has  been  touched,  as  they  say,  by 
the  Evil  One. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  219 

But  the  harvest  moon  is  now  near  at  hand,  and  the  chiefs  and  medi 
cine  men  have  summoned  the  people  of  the  several  villages  to  prepare 
themselves  for  the  autumnal  festival.  Another  spot  of  ground  is  selected, 
and  the  same  sanctifying  ceremony  is  performed  that  was  performed  in 
the  previous  spring.  The  most  expert  hunter  in  each  village  has  been 
commissioned  to  obtain  game,  and  while  he  is  engaged  in  the  hunt  the 
people  of  his  village  are  securing  the  blessing  of  the  Great  Spirit  by 
drinking,  with  many  mystic  ceremonies,  the  liquid  made  from  seven 
of  the  most  bitter  roots  to  be  found  among  the  mountains.  Of  all 
the  game  which  may  be  obtained  by  the  hunters,  not  a  single  animal 
is  to  be  served  up  at  the  feast  whose  bones  have  been  broken  or  muti 
lated  ;  nor  shall  a  rejected  animal  be  brought  within  the  magic  circle, 
but  shall  be  given  to  those  of  the  tribe  who,  by  some  misdeed,  have 
rendered  themselves  unworthy  to  partake  of  the  feast.  The  hunters 
are  always  compelled  to  return  from  the  chase  at  the  sunset  hour,  and 
long  before  they  come  in  sight  of  their  villages  they  invariably  give  a 
shrill  whistle,  as  a  signal  of  good  luck,  whereupon  the  villagers  make 
ready  to  receive  them  with  a  wild  song  of  welcome  and  rejoicing. 

The  pall  of  night  has  once  more  settled  upon  the  earth,  the  moon 
is  in  its  glory,  the  watch-fire  has  been  lighted  within  the  magic  circle, 
and  the  inhabitants  of  the  valley  are  again  assembled  together  in  one 
great  multitude.  From  all  the  cornfields  in  the  valley  the  magicians 
have  collected  the  marked  ears  of  corn,  and  deposited  them  in  the 
kettles  with  the  various  kinds  of  game  which  may  have  been  slaughtered, 
from  the  bear,  the  deer,  and  the  turkey,  to  the  opossum,  the  squirrel, 
and  the  quail.  The  entire  night  is  devoted  to  eating,  and  the  feast 
comes  not  to  an  end  until  all  the  food  has  been  dispatched,  when,  in 
answer  to  an  appropriate  signal  from  the  medicine  men,  the  bones  which 
have  been  stripped  of  their  flesh  are  collected  together  and  pounded 
to  a  kind  of  powder,  and  scattered  through  the  air.  The  seven  days 
following  this  feast  are  devoted  to  dancing  and  carousing,  and  at  the 
termination  of  this  period  the  inhabitants  of  the  valley  retire  to  their 
various  villages,  and  proceed  to  gather  in  their  crops  of  the  sweet 
maize  or  Indian  corn. 


220  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    OVERFLOWING   WATERS. 

A  TRADITION  OF  THE  CHOCTAWS. 

THE  world  was  in  its  prime,  and  time  rolled  on  with  its  accustomed 
regularity.  The  tiny  streams  among  the  hills  and  mountains  shouted 
with  joy,  and  the  broad  rivers  wound  their  wonted  course  along  the 
peaceful  valleys.  Many  a  tall  oak  had  grown  from  the  acorn,  spread 
its  rich  foilage  to  the  summer  winds,  decayed  with  age,  and  mingled 
with  its  mother  earth.  The  moon  and  stars  had  long  made  the  night- 
skies  beautiful,  and  guided  the  Indian  hunter  through  the  wilderness. 
The  sun,  which  the  red  man  calls  the  glory  of  the  summer  time,  had 
never  failed  to  appear  at  his  appointed  periods.  Many  generations  of 
men  had  lived  and  passed  away. 

In  process  of  time  the  aspect  of  the  world  became  changed.  Bro 
ther  quarreled  with  brother,  and  cruel  wars  frequently  covered  the 
earth  with  blood.  The  Great  Spirit  saw  all  these  things  and  was  dis 
pleased.  A  terrible  wind  swept  over  the  wilderness,  and  the  red  men 
knew  that  they  had  done  wrong,  but  they  lived  as  if  they  did  not  care. 
Finally  a  stranger  prophet  made  his  appearance  among  them,  and 
proclaimed  in  every  village  the  news  that  the  human  race  was  to  be 
destroyed.  None  believed  his  words,  and  the  moons  of  summer  again 
came  and  disappeared.  It  was  now  the  autumn  of  the  year.  Many 
cloudy  days  had  occurred,  and  then  a  total  darkness  came  upon  the 
earth,  and  the  sun  seemed  to  have  departed  forever.  It  was  very 
dark  and  very  cold.  Men  laid  themselves  down  to  sleep,  but  they 
were  troubled  with  unhappy  dreams.  They  arose  when  they  thought 
it  was  time  for  the  day  to  dawn,  but  only  to  see  the  sky  covered  with 
a  darkness  deeper  than  the  heaviest  cloud.  The  moon  and  stars  had 
all  disappeared,  and  there  was  constantly  a  dismal  bellowing  of  thun 
der  in  the  upper  air.  Men  now  believed  that  the  sun  would  never 
return,  and  there  was  great  consternation  throughout  the  land.  The 


KECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  221 

great  men  of  the  Choctaw  nation  spoke  despondingly  to  their  fellows, 
and  sung  their  death  songs,  but  those  songs  were  faintly  heard  in  the 
gloom  of  the  great  night.  It  was  a  most  unhappy  time  indeed,  and 
darkness  reigned  for  a  great  while.  Men  visited  each  other  by  torch 
light.  The  grains  and  fruits  of  the  land  became  mouldy,  and  the 
wild  animals  of  the  forest  became  tame  and  gathered  around  the  watch- 
fires  of  the  Indians,  entering  even  into  the  villages. 

A  louder  peal  of  thunder  than  was  ever  before  heard  now  echoed 
through  the  firmament,  and  a  light  was  seen  in  the  North.  It  was 
not  the  light  of  the  sun,  but  the  gleam  of  distant  waters.  They  made 
a  mighty  roar,  and,  in  billows  like  the  mountains,  they  rolled  over  the 
earth.  They  swallowed  up  the  entire  human  race  in  their  career,  and 
destroyed  everything  which  had  made  the  earth  beautiful.  Only  one 
human  being  was  saved,  and  that  was  the  mysterious  prophet  who 
had  foretold  the  wonderful  calamity.  He  had  built  him  a  raft  of  sas 
safras  logs,  and  upon  this  did  he  float  safely  above  the  deep  waters. 
A  large  black  bird  came  and  flew  in  circles  above  his  head.  He 
called  upon  it  for  aid,  but  it  shrieked  aloud,  and  flew  away  and  re 
turned  to  him  no  more.  A  smaller  bird,  of  a  bluish  color,  with 
scarlet  eyes  and  beak,  now  came  hovering  over  the  prophet's  head. 
He  spoke  to  it,  and  asked  if  there  was  a  spot  of  dry  land  in  any  part 
of  the  waste  of  waters.  It  fluttered  its  wings,  uttered  a  sweet  moan, 
and  flew  directly  towards  that  part  of  the  sky  where  the  newly-born 
sun  was  just  sinking  in  the  waves.  A  strong  wind  now  arose,  and 
the  raft  of  the  prophet  was  rapidly  borne  in  the  same  direction  which 
the  bird  had  pursued.  The  moon  and  stars  again  made  their  appear 
ance,  and  the  prophet  landed  upon  a  green  island,  where  be  encamped. 
Here  he  enjoyed  a  long  and  refreshing  sleep,  and  when  morning 
dawned  he  found  that  the  island  was  covered  with  every  variety  of 
animals,  excepting  the  great  STtakanli,  or  mammoth,  which  had  been 
destroyed.  Birds,  too,  he  also  found  here  in  great  abundance.  He 
recognized  the  identical  black  one  which  had  abandoned  him  to  his 
fate  upon  the  waters,  and,  as  it  was  a  wicked  bird  and  had  sharp 
claws,  he  called  it  Ful  luh-chitto,  or  bird  of  the  Evil  One.  He  also 
discovered,  and  with  great  joy,  the  bluish  bird  which  had  caused  the 
wind  to  blow  him  upon  the  island,  and  because  of  its  kindness  to  him 

19* 


222  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

and  its  beauty,  he  called  it  Puck  che-yon-sho-la,  or  the  soft-voiced 
pigeon.  The  waters  finally  passed  away,  and  in  process  of  time  that 
bird  became  a  woman  and  the  wife  of  the  prophet,  from  whom  the 
people  now  living  upon  the  earth  are  all  descended.  And  so  endeth 
the  story  of  The  Overflowing  Waters. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  223 


THE    NAMELESS    CHOCTAW. 

THERE  once  lived  in  the  royal  Indian  town  of  E-ya-slio  (Ya-zoo)  the 
only  son  of  a  war  chief,  who  was  eminently  distinguished  above  all  his 
fellows  for  his  elegant  form  and  noble  bearing.  The  old  men  of  the 
nation  looked  upon  him  with  pride;  and  said  that  he  was  certainly  born 
to  occupy  a  high  position  as  a  warrior.  He  was  also  an  eloquent  orator, 
and  none  ever  thought  of  doubting  his  courage.  But,  with  all  these 
qualities,  he  was  not  allowed  a  seat  in  the  councils  of  his  nation,  be 
cause  he  had  not  distinguished  himself  in  war.  The  renown  of  having 
slain  an  enemy  he  could  not  claim,  nor  had  he  ever  been  fortunate 
enough  to  take  a  single  prisoner.  He  was  universally  beloved,  and, 
as  the  name  of  his  childhood  had  been  abandoned  according  to  an  an 
cient  custom,  and  he  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  winning  a  name  worthy 
of  his  ability,  he  was  known  among  his  kindred  as  the  Nameless 
Choctaw. 

In  the  town  of  E-ya-sho  there  also  once  lived  the  most  beautiful 
maiden  of  her  tribe.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  hunter,  and  the  be 
trothed  of  the  Nameless  Choctaw.  They  met  often  at  the  great  dances, 
but,  because  she  hoped  to  become  his  bride,  she  treated  him  as  a  stranger. 
Often,  too,  did  they  meet  at  the  setting  of  the  sun,  but  then  they 
listened  to  the  song  of  the  whipporwill  or  watched  the  rising  of  the 
evening  star,  when  each  could  hear  the  throbbing  of  the  other's  heart. 
They  loved  with  a  wild  passion  and  were  very  happy.  At  such  times 
one  thought  alone  entered  their  minds  to  cast  a  shadow.  It  was  this : 
They  knew  that  the  laws  of  their  nation  were  unalterable,  and  that 
she  could  not  become  his  bride  until  he  had  won  a  name.  She  knew 
that  he  could  always  place  at  the  door  of  her  lodge  an  abundance  of 
game,  and  would  deck  her  with  the  most  beautiful  of  shells  and  wampum; 
but  all  this  availed  them  nothing;  that  he  must  go  upon  the  war-path 
was  inevitable.  She  belonged  to  a  proud  family,  and  she  never  would 


224  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

consent  to  marry  a  man  who  had  not  a  loud  sounding  name,  and  who 
could  not  sit  in  the  councils  of  her  people.  She  was  willing  to  become 
his  bride  at  any  time,  and  therefore  left  him,  by  his  prowess,  to  decide 
upon  that  time. 

It  was  now  midsummer  and  the  evening  hour.  The  Nameless  Lover 
had  met  his  promised  bride  upon  the  summit  of  a  small  hill,  covered 
with  pines.  From  the  centre  of  a  neighboring  plain  arose  the  smoke 
of  a  large  watch-fire,  around  which  were  dancing  a  party  of  four  hundred 
warriors.  They  had  planned  an  expedition  against  the  Osages,  and 
the  present  was  the  fourth  and  last  night  of  the  preparation  ceremonies. 
Up  to  that  evening  the  Nameless  Choctaw  had  been  the  leader  in  the 
dances,  and  even  now  his  absence  was  only  temporary,  for  he  had 
stolen  away  to  express  his  parting  vows  to  his  beloved.  The  last  em 
brace  was  given,  and  then  the  maiden  was  alone  upon  the  hill-top, 
looking  down  in  sadness  upon  the  dancing  warriors,  among  whom  she 
beheld  none  who  commanded  more  attention  than  the  being  whom  she 
loved. 

Morning  dawned,  and  the  Choctaw  warriors  were  upon  the  war-path 
leading  to  the  country  of  their  enemies,  far  up  on  the  headwaters  of 
the  Arkansas.  Upon  that  stream  they  found  a  cave,  and  in  that  cave, 
because  they  were  on  a  prairie  land,  they  secreted  themselves.  Two 
men  were  then  selected  to  act  as  spies,  one  of  whom  (the  Nameless 
Choctaw)  was  to  reconnoitre  in  the  west  and  the  other  in  the  east. 
Night  came,  and  the  party  in  the  cave  were  discovered  by  an  Osage 
hunter,  who  had  traveled  thither  for  the  purpose  of  sheltering  himself 
until  morning  from  the  heavy  dews.  By  the  light  of  the  stars  did  he 
then  travel  to  the  nearest  village,  and  having  warned  his  people  of  the 
proximity  of  their  enemies,  they  hurried  in  a  large  body  to  the  cave. 
At  its  mouth  they  built  a  fire,  and  when  the  sun  rose  into  the  horizon 
the  entire  party  of  Choctaws  had  been  smothered  to  death  by  the 
cunning  of  their  enemies. 

The  Choctaw  spy  who  had  journeyed  towards  the  east,  had  witnessed 
the  surprise  and  unhappy  fate  of  his  brother  warriors,  and,  returning 
to  his  own  country,  he  called  a  council  and  revealed  the  sad  intelligence. 
As  to  the  fate  of  the  Nameless  Choctaw,  who  had  journeyed  to  the 
westward,  he  knew  that  he  too  must  have  been  overtaken  and  slain. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  225 

Upon  the  heart  of  one  being  this  last  intelligence  fell  with  a  most  .heavy 
weight,  and  the  promised  bride  of  the  Nameless  Lover  pined  in  melan 
choly  grief.  From  the  night  on  which  she  was  made  wretched,  she 
began  to  droop,  and  before  the  reigning  moon  had  passed  away  she 
died,  and  was  buried  on  the  identical  spot  where  she  had  parted  with 
her  lover. 

But  what  became  of  the  Nameless  Choctaw  ?  It  was  not  true  that  he 
had  been  overtaken  and  slain.  He  was  indeed  discovered  by  the  Osages, 
and  far  over  the  prairies  and  across  the  streams  was  he  closely  pursued. 
For  many  days  and  through  the  watches  of  many  nights  did  the  race 
continue,  but  the  Choctaw  warrior  finally  made  his  escape.  His  course 
had  been  exceedingly  winding,  and  when  he  came  to  a  pause  he  was 
astonished  to  find  that  the  sun  rose  in  the  wrong  quarter  of  the  heavens. 
Everything  appeared  to  him  wrong  and  out  of  order,  and  the  truth 
was  he  became  a  bewildered  and  forlorn  man,  and  everywhere  did  he 
wander.  He  found  himself  at  the  foot  of  a  mighty  range  of  mountains, 
which  were  covered  with  grass  and  unlike  any  that  he  had  ever  before 
seen. 

It  so  happened,  however,  at  the  close  of  a  certain  day,  that  he  saun 
tered  into  a  wooded  valley,  and  having  built  him  a  rude  bower  and 
killed  a  rabbit,  he  lighted  a  fire,  and  prepared  himself  for  one  quiet 
meal  and  a  night  of  repose.  Morning  dawned,  and  he  was  still  in 
trouble.  Many  moons  passed  away  and  the  Choctaw  was  still  desolate 
and  forlorn.  It  was  now  summer,  and  he  called  upon  the  Great  Spirit 
to  make  his  pathway  plain ;  and  having  hunted  the  forests  for  a  spotted 
deer,  and  slain  her,  on  a  day  when  there  was  no  wind  he  offered  a  sacri 
fice,  and  that  night  supped  upon  a  portion  of  the  animal's  sweet  flesh. 
His  fire  burnt  brightly,  and  though  somewhat  forlorn,  he  found  that 
his  heart  was  at  peace.  But  now  he  hears  a  footstep !  A  moment 
more,  and  a  snow-white  wolf  of  immense  size  is  crouching  at  his  feet, 
and  licking  his  torn  moccasins.  "  How  came  you  in  this  strange 
country?"  inquired  the  wolf;  and  the  poor  Indian  related  the  story  of 
his  unsuccessful  exploit  and  subsequent  escape.  The  wolf  took  pity 
upon  the  Choctaw  and  told  him  that  he  would  conduct  him  in  safety 
to  the  country  of  his  kindred;  and  on  the  following  morning  did  they 
take  their  departure.  Long,  very  long  was  the  journey,  and  many 


226  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

and  very  wild  and  turbulent  the  streams  which  they  had  to  cross.  The 
wolf  helped  the  Choctaw  to  kill  game  for  their  mutual  sustenance,  and 
by  the  time  that  the  moon  for  weeding  the  corn  had  arrived  the 
nameless  Choctaw  had  entered  his  native  village  again.  This  was  on 
the  anniversary  of  the  clay  he  had  parted  with  his  betrothed,  and  he 
was  sorely  grieved  to  find  his  people  mourning  her  untimely  death. 
Time  and  fatigue  had  so  changed  the  returned  Choctaw  that  his  rela 
tives  and  friends  did  not  recognize  him,  and  he  chose  not  to  reveal 
himself.  From  many  a  mouth,  however,  did  did  he  learn  the  story 
of  her  death,  and  many  a  wild  song,  to  the  astonishment  of  all  his 
friends,  did  he  sing  to  the  memory  of  the  departed,  whom  he  called 
by  the  beautiful  name  of  IMMA,  or  the  idol  of  warriors.  And  on  a 
cloudless  night  did  he  wander  to  the  grave  of  his  beloved,  and  at  a 
moment  when  the  Grreat  Spirit  cast  his  shadow  upon  the  moon  (alluding 
to  an  eclipse)  did  he  throw  himself  thereon  and  die.  For  three  nights 
thereafter  were  the  inhabitants  of  the  Choctaw  village  alarmed  by  the 
continual  howling  of  a  wolf,  and  when  it  ceased,  the  pine  forest,  upon 
the  hill  where  the  lovers  were  resting  in  peace,  took  up  the  dismal 
howl  or  moan,  and  has  continued  it  to  the  present  time. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  227 


THE    SPIRIT    SACRIFICE. 

IT  was  midsummer,  and  there  was  a  terrible  plague  in  the  wilder 
ness.  Many  a  Chippeway  village  on  the  borders  of  Lake  Superior  had 
been  depopulated.  The  only  band  of  the  great  northern  nation  which 
had  thus  far  escaped,  was  the  one  whose  hunting  grounds  lay  on  the 
northern  shore  of  the  St.  Mary's  River.  Their  principal  village  stood 
upon  a  gentle  promontory  overlooking  the  Great  Lake,  immediately 
at  the  head  of  the  Sault  or  Falls,  and  at  this  village  the  chiefs  and 
warriors  of  the  tribe  were  assembled  in  council.  Incantations  of  every 
possible  description  had  for  many  days  been  performed,  and  yet  nightly 
tidings  were  received,  showing  that  the  fatal  disease  was  sweeping  over 
the  land,  like  the  fires  of  autumn  over  the  prairies.  The  signs  in  the 
sky,  as  well  as  these  tidings,  convinced  the  poor  Indians  that  their 
days  were  numbered.  It  was  now  the  last  night  of  their  council,  and 
they  were  in  despair.  They  knew  that  the  plague  had  been  sent  upon 
the  earth  by  the  Great  Spirit,  as  a  punishment  for  some  crime,  and 
they  also  knew  that  there  was  but  one  thing  that  could  possibly  appease 
his  anger.  And  what  was  this  ?  The  sacrifice  of  the  most  beautiful 
girl  of  her  tribe.  And  such  was  the  decree,  that  she  should  enter  her 
canoe,  and  throwing  away  her  paddle,  cast  herself  upon  the  waters, 
just  above  the  Sault. 

Morning  dawned,  and  loud  and  dismal  beyond  compare,  was  the 
wail  of  sorrow  which  broke  upon  the  silent  air.  Another  council  was 
held,  and  the  victim  for  the  sacrifice  was  selected.  She  was  an  only 
child,  and  her  mother  was  a  widow,  feeble  and  infirm.  They  told  the 
maiden  of  her  fate,  and  she  uttered  not  a  repining  word.  The  girls 
and  women  of  the  village  flocked  around  their  long-loved  companion, 
and  decked  her  hair  and  her  neck  with  all  the  brightest  wampum,  and 
the  most  beautiful  feathers  and  shells  that  could  be  found  in  all  the 
tribe.  The  time  appointed  for  the  sacrifice  was  the  sunset  hour;  and 


228  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

as  the  day  was  rapidly  waning,  the  gloom  which  pervaded  the  entire 
Tillage  gradually  increased,  and  it  even  seemed  as  if  a  murmuring 
tone  mingled  with  the  roar  of  the  mighty  waterfall.  The  day  had 
been  one  of  uncommon  splendor,  and  as  the  sun  descended  to  the 
horizon  a  retinue  of  gorgeous  clouds  gathered  around  him,  and  the 
great  lake,  whose  waters  receded  to  the  sky,  was  covered  with  a  deeper 
blue  than  had  ever  before  been  seen. 

All  things  were  now  ready,  and  the  Indian  maiden  was  ready  for 
the  sacrifice.  In  silence  was  she  conducted  to  her  canoe,  and  loud 
was  the  wail  of  lamentation.  It  died  away;  and  now,  to  the  astonish 
ment  of  all  the  people,  a  strange  echo  came  from  over  the  waters. 
What  could  it  mean  ?  A  breathless  silence  ensued,  and  even  the  old 
men  listened  with  fear.  And  now  a  louder  and  a  clearer  continuation 
of  the  same  echo  breaks  upon  the  air.  A  speck  is  seen  upon  the 
waters.  The  sun  has  disappeared,  and  a  small  canoe  is  seen  rapidly 
approaching,  as  if  from  the  very  spot  where  the  orb  touched  the  waters. 
The  song  increases;  and  as  the  fairy -like  canoe  sweeps  mysteriously  over 
the  watery  waste,  it  is  now  seen  to  contain  a  beautiful  being,  resembling 
a  girl,  clothed  in  a  snow-white  robe.  She  is  in  a  standing  attitude, 
her  arms  are  folded,  and  her  eyes  are  fixed  upon  the  heavens.  Her 
soul  is  absorbed  in  a  song,  of  which  this  is  the  burden : — 

"  I  come  from  the  Spirit  land, 
To  appease  the  Great  Spirit, 
To  stay  the  plague, 
And  to  save  the  life  of  the  beautiful  Chippeway." 

Onward  she  came,  and  her  pathway  lay  directly  towards  the  mighty 
rapids.  With  utter  astonishment  did  the  Indians  look  upon  this  un 
heard  of  spectacle,  and  while  they  looked  they  saw  the  canoe  and  its 
spirit  voyager  pass  directly  into  the  foam,  where  it  was  lost  to  them 
for  ever. 

And  so  did  the  poor  Indians  escape  the  plague.  The  St.  Mary  is 
a  beautiful  river;  and  during  the  summer  time  its  shores  are  always 
lined  with  lilies,  large,  and  of  a  marvelous  whiteness ;  and  it  is  a 
common  belief  among  the  Chippeways,  that  they  owe  their  origin  to 
the  mysterious  spirit,  from  whose  mutilated  body  they  sprang.  And 
so  endeth  the  Legend  of  the  Spirit  Sacrifice. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  229 


THE    PEACE    MAKER. 

The  following  story  was  obtained  by  the  writer,  directly  from  the  lips  of  a 
Seneca  Indian,  and  the  hero  is  said  to  have  been  the  grandfather  of  the  cele 
brated  orator  Red  Jacket. 

THERE  was  a  time  when  all  the  Indian  tribes  in  the  world  were  at 
war  with  the  great  Seneca  nation,  whose  hunting  grounds  were  on  the 
borders  of  Lake  Ontario.  So  fearful  had  they  become  of  their 
enemies,  that  the  bravest  hunters  and  warriors  never  left  their  wig 
wams  without  bending  their  bows,  and  little  children  were  not  per 
mitted  by  their  mothers  to  gather  berries  or  hickory  nuts  in  the 
neighboring  woods.  The  head  chief  of  the  nation  at  that  time,  was 
Sa-go-you-wat-ha,  or  Always  Awake.  He  was  a  good  man,  and  being 
sorely  grieved  at  the  unhappiness  of  his  people,  he  conceived  the  idea 
of  securing  a  permanent  peace.  It  was  true,  he  said,  that  his  father 
had  been  a  cruel  and  unpopular  chief,  but  he  did  not  think  it  right 
that  the  generation  which  followed  his  father  should  be  made  misera 
ble  for  crimes  never  committed  by  them.  And  therefore  it  was  that 
he  prayed  to  the  Great  Ha-nee  to  tell  him,  in  a  dream,  what  he  must 
do  to  accomplish  his  end.  Night  came,  and  in  spite  of  his  name, 
Always  Awake  fell  into  a  deep  sleep  and  had  a  dream. 

He  was  told  that  in  the  direction  whence  came  the  warm  winds  of 
summer,  and  distant  from  his  village  a  journey  of  one  moon,  there 
was  a  very  large  mountain.  On  the  summit  of  that  mountain,  as  he 
was  told,  were  living  a  few  people  from  all  the  nations  of  the  earth, 
excepting  the  Senecas.  The  place  alluded  to  was  called  the  Mountain 
of  Refuge,  and  it  was  so  sacred  a  place,  that  its  soil  had  never  been 
wet  with  human  blood,  and  the  people  who  lived  there,  were  the  pecu 
liar  favorites  of  the  Great  Ha-nee,  and  were  the  law  makers  of  the 
world.  The  dream  also  told  the  Seneca  chief,  that  he  could  secure  a 
permanent  peace  only  by  visiting  the  sacred  mountain;  but  as  the 
20 


230  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

intervening  distance  was  so  great,  and  his  trail  would  be  only  among 
enemies,  the  dangers  of  the  expedition  would  be  very  numerous.  By 
traveling  at  night,  however,  and  sleeping  in  the  day  time,  the  task 
might  be  accomplished,  and  he  was  at  liberty  to  try  his  fortune. 

Always  Awake  pondered  a  long  time  upon  this  strange  vision,  but 
finally  determined  to  start  upon  the  appointed  expedition.  Great  was 
the  fatigue  that  he  endured,  and  oftentimes  was  he  compelled  to 
satisfy  his  hunger  with  the  roots  and  berries  of  the  forest.  Many  a 
narrow  escape  did  he  make  from  his  enemies;  but  in  due  time  he 
reached  the  Mountain  of  Refuge.  He  was  warmly  welcomed  among 
the  Indians  of  the  mountain,  and  when  he  told  his  story  and  talked 
of  peace,  they  honored  him  with  many  a  loud  shout  of  applause.  A 
council  was  held,  and  a  decree  passed,  to  the  effect  that  the  important 
question  at  stake  should  be  settled  by  another  council  composed  of 
the  head  chiefs  of  all  the  Indian  nations  in  the  land.  The  fleetest 
runners  were  employed  to  disseminate  the  news,  and  at  the  appointed 
time  the  council  of  chiefs  was  held.  They  formed  themselves  into  a 
confederacy,  and  with  one  exception,  the  nations  of  the  wilderness  be 
came  as  one  people,  and  so  continued  until  the  white  man  crossed  the 
great  waters  and  taught  them  the  vices  which  have  almost  consumed 
them  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  The  only  nation  that  would  not 
join  the  confederation  was  the  Osage  nation,  and  because  of  their 
wickedness  in  so  doing,  they  were  cursed  by  the  Great  Ha-nee,  and 
have  ever  since  been  a  by-word  and  a  reproach  among  their  fellows. 

And  when  the  Seneca  chief  returned  to  his  own  country,  he  was 
very  happy.  His  trail  through  the  forests  and  over  the  mountains 
was  lined  with  bonfires,  and  in  every  village  that  he  tarried,  he  was 
feasted  with  the  best  of  game.  One  moon  after  he  returned  to  his 
people  he  died  and  was  buried  on  the  banks  of  the  beautiful  lake 
where  he  lived ;  and  ever  since  that  time  the  Great  Ha-nee  has  per 
mitted  his  people  to  live  upon  the  land  inherited  from  their  fathers. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  231 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    DEER. 

A  SHAWNEE  LEGEND. 

WA-PIT-PA-TASKA,  or  the  Yellow  Sk y;  was  the  daughter  of  a  Shaw- 
nee  or  Snake  hunter.  His  lodge  was  not  one  of  the  handsomest  in 
the  village  where  it  stood,  but  the  paths  leading  to  it  were  more  beaten 
than  those  leading  to  any  other,  for  the  daughter  of  the  hunter  was  a 
great  favorite  among  the  young  men  of  her  tribe.  The  exploits  of 
those  who  sought  her  hand  had  no  charm  for  her  ear,  and  her  tastes 
were  strangely  different  from  those  common  among  women.  She 
knew  that  she  had  not  many  years  to  live  upon  the  earth,  and  her 
dreams  had  told  her  she  was  created  for  an  unheard-of  mission.  There 
was  a  mystery  about  her  being,  and  none  could  comprehend  the  mean 
ing  of  her  evening  songs.  On  one  condition  alone  did  she  avow  her 
willingness  to  become  a  wife,  and  this  was,  that  he  who  became  her 
husband  should  never,  under  any  circumstances,  mention  her  name. 
If  he  did  so,  a  sad  calamity  would  befall  him,  and  he  would  forever 
thereafter  regret  his  thoughtlessness.  By  this  decree  was  the  love  of 
one  of  her  admirers  greatly  enhanced,  and  before  the  summer  was 
gone  the  twain  were  married  and  dwelt  in  the  same  lodge. 

Time  flew  on  and  the  Yellow  Sky  sickened  and  died,  and  her  last 
words  were  that  her  husband  should  never  forget  her  admonition 
about  breathing  her  name.  The  widower  was  very  unhappy,  and  for 
five  summers  did  he  avoid  his  fellow  men,  living  in  solitude,  and  wan 
dering  through  the  forests  alone.  The  voices  of  autumn  were  now 
heard  in  the  land,  and  the  bereaved  husband  had,  after  his  many 
journey  ings,  returned  to  the  grave  of  his  wife,  which  he  found  over 
grown  with  briers  and  coarse  weeds.  For  many  moons  had  he 
neglected  to  protect  the  remains  of  his  wife,  and  he  now  tried  to  atone 
for  his  wickedness  by  plucking  up  the  briers  and  covering  the  grave 
with  a  soft  sod.  In  doing  this  he  was  discovered  by  a  stranger  In- 


232  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

dian,  w.ho  asked  him  whose  grave  it  was  of  which  he  was  taking  so 
much  care  ?  "  It  is  the  grave,"  said  he,  "  of  Wa-pit-pa-taska  ;"  and 
hardly  had  the  forbidden  name  (which  he  thoughtlessly  uttered) 
passed  from  his  lips,  before  he  fell  to  the  earth  in  a  spasm  of  great 
pain.  The  sun  was  setting,  and  his  bitter  moans  echoed  far  through 
the  gloomy  woods,  even  until  the  darkness  settled  upon  the  world. 

Morning  came,  and  near  the  grave  of  the  Yellow  Sky  a  large  buck 
was  quietly  feeding.  It  was  the  unhappy  husband,  whom  the  Great 
Spirit  had  thus  changed.  The  trotting  of  a  wolf  was  heard  in  the 
brake,  and  the  deer  pricked  up  his  ears.  One  moment  more,  and  the 
wolf  started  after  the  deer.  The  race  was  very  long  and  painful,  but 
the  deer  finally  escaped.  And  thus  from  a  man  came  into  existence 
the  beautiful  deer,  or  mu-rat-si;  and  because  of  the  foolishness  of  this 
man,  in  not  remembering  his  wife's  words,  the  favorite  animal  of  the 
Shawnee  has  ever  been  at  the  mercy  of  the  wolf. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  233 


LEGEND    OF    THE    WHITE    OWL. 

IT  was  in  the  country  of  the  Winnebagoes,  or  people  of  the  turbid 
water,  and  there  was  a  great  scarcity  of  game.  An  Indian  hunter, 
while  returning  from  an  unsuccessful  expedition,  at  the  sunset  hour, 
chanced  to  discover  in  the  top  of  a  tree  a  large  white  owl.  He  knew 
that  the  flesh  of  this  bird  was  not  palatable  to  the  taste,  but  as  he 
thought  of  his  wife  and  children,  who  had  been  without  food  for 
several  days,  he  concluded  to  bend  his  bow  and  kill  the  bird.  Hardly 
had  he  come  to  this  determination,  before  he  was  astonished  to  hear 
the  owl  speaking  to  him  in  the  following  strain :  "  You  are  a  very 
foolish  hunter.  You  know  it  is  against  the  laws  of  your  nation  to 
kill  any  of  my  tribe,  and  why  should  you  do  wrong  because  you 
happen  to  be  a  little  hungry  ?  I  know  that  your  wife  and  children 
are  also  hungry,  but  that  is  not  a  good  reason  for  depriving  me  of  life. 
I  too  have  a  wife  and  several  children,  and  their  home  is  in  the  hollow 
of  an  old  tree.  When  I  left  them  a  little  while  ago,  they  were  quite 
as  hungry  as  you  are,  and  I  am  now  trying  to  obtain  for  their  enjoy 
ment  a  red  squirrel  or  a  young  opossum.  Unlike  you,  I  have  to  hunt 
for  my  game  only  at  night,  and  if  you  will  go  away  and  not  injure 
me,  I  may  have  it  in  my  power  to  do  you  a  kindness  at  some  future 
time." 

The  Indian  hunter  was  convinced,  and  he  unbent  his  bow.  He 
returned  to  his  wigwam,  and  after  he  had  told  his  wife  what  had 
happened  to  him,  she  told  him  she  was  not  sorry,  for  she  had  been 
particularly  fortunate  in  gathering  berries.  And  then  the  Indian  and 
his  family  were  contented,  and  game  soon  afterwards  became  abun 
dant  in  the  land. 

Many  seasons  had  passed  away,  and  the  powerful  nation  of  the  Iro- 
quois  were  making  war  upon  the  Winnebagoes.  The  hunter  already 
mentioned  had  become  a  successful  warrior  and  a  chief.  He  was  a 

20* 


234  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

mark  for  his  enemies,  and  the  bravest  among  them  started  upon  the 
war-path  for  the  express  purpose  of  effecting  his  destruction.  They 
hunted  him  as  they  would  the  panther,  but  he  always  avoided  their 
arrows.  Many  days  of  fatigue  had  he  now  endured,  and,  believing 
that  his  enemies  had  given  up  the  chase,  he  stopped,  on  a  certain 
evening,  to  rest  himself  and  enjoy  a  repast  of  roots.  After  this  com 
fortless  supper  was  ended,  he  wrapped  himself  in  his  skins  and  thought 
that  he  would  lie  down  and  enjoy  a  little  sleep.  He  did  so,  and  the 
only  sounds  which  broke  the  stillness  of  the  air  were  caused  by  the 
falling  of  the  dew  from  the  leaves,  and  the  whistling  of  the  whippor- 
will.  It  was  now  past  midnight,  and  the  Winnebago  was  yet  undis 
turbed.  A  whoop  is  heard  in  the  forest,  but  so  remote  from  his 
grassy  couch  as  not  to  be  heard  by  the  unconscious  sleeper.  But  what 
can  this  shouting  mean?  A  party  of  the  Iroquois  warriors  have 
fallen  upon  the  trail  of  their  enemy,  and  are  in  hot  pursuit.  But  still 
the  Winnebago  warrior  is  in  the  midst  of  a  pleasant  dream.  On  come 
his  enemies,  and  his  death  is  inevitable.  The  shouting  of  the  Iroquois 
is  now  distinct  and  clear,  but  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  it  is  swal 
lowed  up  in  a  much  louder  and  more  dismal  shriek,  which  startled 
the  Winnebago  to  his  feet.  He  is  astonished,  and  wonders  whence 
comes  the  noise.  He  looks  upwards,  and  lo !  perched  upon  one  of 
the  branches  of  the  tree  under  which  he  had  been  resting,  the  form  of  a 
large  white  owl.  It  rolls  its  large  yellow  eyes  upon  him,  and  tells  him 
that  an  enemy  is  on  his  trail,  and  that  he  must  flee  for  his  life.  And 
this  is  the  way  in  which  the  white  owl  manifested  its  gratitude  to  the 
Winnebago  hunter  for  his  kindness  in  sparing  its  own  life  many  years 
before.  And  since  that  time  the  owl  has  ever  been  considered  a  very 
good  and  a  wise  bird,  and  when  it  perches  above  the  wigwam  of  the 
red  man  it  is  always  safe  from  harm. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  235 


DEATH    OF    THE    GIANT    CANNIBAL. 

The  following  story  was  obtained  from  the  lips  of  a  Chippeway  warrior 
named  Maw-gun-nub,  or  Setting-ahead.  He  told  it  with  as  serious  an  air  as  if 
it  had  been  a  matter  of  actual  and  important  history,  and  was  evidently  a  firm 
believer  in  the  wonders  therein  contained. 

AN  Indian  village  stood  upon  the  borders  of  the  Lake  of  the  Woods. 
It  was  a  summer  day,  and  a  heavy  rain  storm  had  passed  over  the  coun 
try,  when  a  large  Giant  or  Cannibal  suddenly  made  his  appearance  in 
the  village.  He  was  as  tall  as  the  tallest  hemlock,  and  carried  a  club  in 
his  hand  which  was  longer  than  the  longest  canoe.  He  told  the  Indians 
that  he  had  come  from  a  far  country  in  the  North;  that  he  was  tired 
and  hungry;  and  that  all  the  wild  rice  and  the  game  in  the  village 
must  be  immediately  brought  to  his  feet,  that  he  might  satisfy  his  ap 
petite.  His  orders  were  obeyed,  and  when  the  food  was  brought,  and 
the  inhabitants  of  the  village  were  collected  together  to  see  him  enjoy 
his  feast,  the  Giant  told  them  he  was  not  yet  satisfied ;  whereupon, 
with  one  blow  of  his  huge  club,  he  destroyed,  with  one  exception,  all 
the  people  who  had  treated  him  so  kindly.  The  only  person  who 
escaped  the  dreadful  blow  was  a  little  boy,  who  happened  to  be  sick 
in  one  of  the  wigwams. 

After  the  Giant  had  committed  his  cruel  deed,  he  devoured  a  num 
ber  of  the  dead  bodies,  and  during  the  night  disappeared  without  dis 
covering  the  boy.  In  a  few  days  the  boy  was  well  enough  to  move 
about,  and  as  he  went  from  one  wigwam  to  another,  he  thought  of  his 
priends  who  had  been  so  suddenly  killed,  and  was  very  unhappy.  For 
many  seasons  did  he  live  alone.  While  very  young  his  food  consisted 
of  such  birds  as  the  partridge,  but  as  he  grew  up  to  the*  estate  of  man 
hood,  he  became  a  successful  hunter,  and  often  feasted  upon  the 
deer  and  the  buffalo.  He  became  a  strong  man,  but  was  very  lonely, 


236  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

and  every  time  lie  thought  of  the  G-iant  who  had  destroyed  his  rela 
tives  and  friends  he  thirsted  for  revenge. 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  Chippeway  hunter  became  uneasy  and  dis 
contented.  He  fasted  for  many  days,  and  called  upon  the  Great  Spirit 
to  give  him  power  to  discover  and  destroy  the  Giant  who  had  done 
him  so  much  harm.  The  Great  Spirit  took  pity  upon  him,  heard  his 
prayer,  and  sent  to  his  assistance  a  troop  of  a  hundred  men,  from 
whose  backs  grew  the  most  beautiful  of  wings.  They  told  the  hunter 
that  they  knew  all  about  the  Giant,  and  would  help  him  to  take  his  life. 
They  said  that  the  Giant  was  very  fond  of  the  meat  of  the  white  bear, 
and  that  if  the  hunter  would  give  a  bear  feast  they  were  certain  that 
the  Giant  would  make  his  appearance  and  ask  for  a  portion  of  the 
choice  food.  The  time  for  giving  the  feast  was  appointed,  and  it  was 
to  take  place  in  a  large  natural  wigwam,  formed  by  the  locked  branches 
of  many  trees  ]  whereupon  the  strange  people  disappeared  and  the 
hunter  started  towards  the  north  after  a  bear. 

The  hunter  was  successful ;  the  appointed  time  arrived,  the  feast 
was  ready,  and  the  strange  people  were  on  the  ground.  The  dancing 
and  the  singing  were  all  over,  and  the  hot  bear  soup  filled  the  wigwam 
with  a  pleasant  odor.  A  heavy  tramp  was  heard  in  the  woods,  and  in 
a  little  time  the  Giant  made  his  appearance,  attracted  to  the  place  by 
the  smell  of  the  soup.  He  came  rushing  to  the  wigwam  like  one  who 
knew  not  what  it  was  to  fear ;  but  when  he  saw  the  array  of  people 
with  wings  he  became  very  quiet,  and  asked  the  hunter  if  he  might 
participate  in  the  feast.  The  hunter  told  him  that  he  might,  on  con 
dition  that  he  would  go  to  the  mouth  of  a  certain  stream  that  emptied 
into  the  lake,  and  bring  therefrom  to  the  wigwam  a  large  rock  which 
he  would  find  there.  The  Giant  was  angry  at  this  request,  but  as  he 
was  afraid  of  the  people  with  wings  he  dared  not  disobey.  He  did  as 
he  was  bidden,  and  the  thong  which  he  used  to  hold  the  rock  on  his 
back  cut  a  deep  gash  in  his  forehead. 

The  hunter  was  not  yet  satisfied,  and  he  told  the  Giant  that  before 
he  could  be  admitted  to  the  feast  he  must  bring  to  the  wigwam  a  gill- 
net  that  would  reach  across  the  widest  stream.  The  Giant  departed, 
and,  having  obtained  a  beautiful  net  from  a  mammoth  spider  that  lived 
in  a  cave,  he  brought  it  to  tho  hunter.  The  hunter  was  well  pleased, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  237 

but  not  yet  fully  satisfied.  One  more  thing  did  he  demand  from  the 
Giant  before  he  could  be  admitted  to  the  feast,  which  was  this,  that  he 
must  make  his  appearance  at  the  feast  wearing  a  robe  made  of  weasel 
skins,  with  the  teeth  and  claws  all  on.  This  robe  was  obtained,  the 
Giant  was  admitted,  and  the  feast  proceeded. 

It  lasted  for  several  days  and  nights,  and  the  hunter,  the  strange 
people,  and  the  Giant  danced  and  caroused  together  as  if  they  had 
been  the  best  of  friends.  The  Giant  was  delighted  with  the  singing 
of  his  entertainers,  and  while  he  praised  them  to  the  skies  he  did  not 
know  that  in  his  bowl  of  soup  the  Chippeway  hunter,  who  had  not 
forgotten  the  death  of  his  friends,  had  placed  a  bitter  root,  which 
would  deprive  him  of  his  strength.  But  such  was,  indeed,  the  case. 
On  the  last  night  of  the  feast  the  Giant  became  very  tired  and  stupid, 
and  asked  permission  to  enjoy  some  sleep.  Permission  was  granted, 
and  in  the  centre  of  the  great  lodge  was  spread  for  his  accommodation 
his  weasel-skin  robe.  Upon  the  stone  which  he  brought  from  the 
river  did  he  rest  his  head,  and  over  him  was  spread  the  net  he  had 
obtained  from  the  mammoth  spider.  He  then  fell  into  a  deep  sleep, 
and  the  men  with  wings  and  the  hunter  continued  the  revelry.  Each 
man  supplied  himself  with  a  war  club,  and  they  performed  the  dance 
of  revenge.  They  formed  a  ring  around  the  sleeping  Giant,  and  at  a 
signal  made  by  the  hunter  they  all  gave  him  a  severe  blow,  when  the 
spirit-men  disappeared  into  the  air,  and  the  weasel-skin  robe  suddenly 
became  alive.  The  little  animals  feasted  upon  the  Giant  with  evident 
satisfaction,  and  by  morning  there  was  nothing  left  of  him  but  his 
bones.  These  did  the  hunter  gather  into  a  heap,  and  having  burnt 
them  to  ashes,  he  threw  them  into  the  air,  and  immediately  there  came 
into  existence  all  the  beautiful  birds  which  now  fill  the  world.  And 
in  this  manner  was  the  great  Giant  of  the  Chippeways  destroyed,  and 
instead  of  his  living  to  feast  upon  the  flesh  of  man,  his  own  body,  by 
the  wisdom  of  the  Great  Spirit,  was  turned  into  the  birds,  which  are 
the  animal  food  of  man. 


238  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    CHIPEWAY   MAGICIAN. 

THIS  legend,  with  at  least  a  score  of  variations;  was  related  to  me 
by  a  Chippeway  hunter  named  Ka-zhe-osh,  or  the  Fleet  Flyer.  It  is 
excessively  romantic,  but  will  most  certainly  enlist  the  sympathies  of 
the  ladies. 

Near  the  head  of  the  Mississippi  is  Sandy  Lake.  In  the  centre  of 
this  lake  there  is  an  island,  and  on  this  island,  in  the  olden  times,  stood 
a  Chippeway  village.  The  chief  of  this  village  had  a  daughter,  and 
that  daughter  had  a  lover,  who  was  the  greatest  warrior  of  his  tribe, 
and  a  magician.  He  had  the  power  of  turning  himself  into  any  kind 
of  animal  he  pleased,  and  for  this  reason  he  was  looked  upon  with 
suspicion  by  the  females  of  his  acquaintance.  He  lived  in  a  secluded 
lodge  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  and  none  ever  disturbed  him  in 
his  seclusion  without  express  permission ;  and  a  greater  number  of 
scalps  hung  from  the  poles  of  his  lodge  than  from  those  of  any  other 
in  the  tribe.  The  chief's  daughter  admired  him  for  his  noble  bearing 
and  his  exploits,  but  she  could  not  reconcile  herself  to  become  his  wife. 
She  was  afraid  of  the  strange  power  that  he  possessed,  but  she  loved 
her  father,  and  had  promised  him  that  she  would  never  disobey  his 
commands  in  regard  to  choosing  her  husband,  though  she  trusted  that 
the  magician  would  never  be  mentioned  in  that  connection. 

In  view  of  this  state  of  things  the  magician  made  interest  with  the 
entire  brotherhood  of  warriors  and  hunters,  and  proclaimed  his  inten 
tion  of  leading  them  upon  the  war-path  to  a  distant  country.  He  was 
unhappy,  and  hoped  to  find  peace  of  mind  by  wandering  into  strange 
lands.  At  an  appointed  time  the  party  assembled  upon  a  neighboring 
plain,  and  they  went  through  the  ceremonies  of  the  war-dance.  They 
also  shouted  a  loud  war  song,  with  the  following  burden : — 

"  We  love  the  whoop  of  our  enemies; 
We  are  going  to  war, 
We  are  going  to  war,  on  the  other  side  of  the  world." 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  239 

On  witnessing  these  preparations,  the  chiefs  of  the  village  became 
troubled.  He  well  knew  that  if  the  old  inen  and  the  women  and 
children  under  his  charge  should  be  abandoned  by  the  fighting  men 
and  hunters  of  the  tribe,  they  would  be  visited  by  much  suffering,  and 
he  determined  to  avoid  the  calamity.  But  how  could  this  be  done  ? 
He  thought  of  only  one  method,  which  was  to  give  the  magician  his 
daughter.  He  told  the  daughter,  and  she  promised  to  obey.  He 
made  the  proposition  to  the  magician,  and  it  was  accepted.  It  was  on 
certain  conditions,  however,  and  these  were  as  follows : — 

The  magician  was  first  to  capture  the  largest  white-fish  in  the  lake, 
then  kill  a  white  deer,  and  finally  win  a  foot-race  of  fifteen  miles 
against  the  swiftest  runner  in  the  tribe.  All  these  things  the  magician 
promised  to  do,  and  he  did  them  all.  He  turned  himself  into  an 
otter,  and  by  the  assistance  of  the  chief  of  the  otters  secured  the 
largest  fish  that  had  ever  been  seen,  and  appearing  in  his  own  form 
again,  deposited  it  in  the  lodge  of  the  chief.  He  also  turned  himself 
into  a  black  wolf,  and  having  ranged  the  forest  for  a  white  deer  he 
caught  it,  and  again  resuming  his  natural  form  carried  it  to  the  lodge 
where  lived  his  betrothed.  In  running  the  race  that  had  been  pro 
posed  he  had  one  hundred  competitors,  and  at  the  end  of  the  fifteen 
miles  was  stationed  the  chief 's  daughter,  with  a  belt.of  wampum  in 
her  hand  to  crown  the  victor.  The  magician  started  upon  the  race  in 
the  form  of  a  man,  but  before  he  had  run  a  mile  he  turned  himself 
into  a  hawk,  and  swooping  to  the  side  of  the  maiden,  demanded  that 
she  should  now  become  an  inmate  of  his  lodge.  She  consented,  and 
the  chief  gave  her  .to  the  magician.  Before  he  took  her  away  he  called 
together  the  men  of  his  tribe  who  had  competed  with  him  for  the 
prize,  and  complimented  them  for  their  great  activity  in  running  the 
race,  and  condoled  with  them  in  their  disappointment.  He  then  told 
the  chief  that  he  did  not  thank  him  for  what  he  had  done,  and  turning 
to  the  daughter  he  said  that  as  she  had  cost  him  so  much  trouble  she 
must  enter  his  camp  and  do  all  his  work  for  him,  even  to  the  end  of 
her  days.  And  ever  since  that  time  has  it  been  the  lot  of  all  Indian 
women  to  act  as  the  servants  of  their  husbands. 


240  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    LOVER    STAR. 

I  obtained  the  following  legend  from  the  lips  of  an  Indian  trader,  whom  I 
met  at  the  island  of  La  Pointe,  in  Lake  Superior.  He  said  it  was  related  to 
him  by  a  hunter  of  the  Chippewyan  nation,  and  that  he  had  heard  a  similar 
story  among  the  Chippeways. 

THERE  was  once  a  quarrel  among  the  stars,  when  one  of  them  was 
driven  away  from  its  home  in  the  heavens  and  descended  to  the  earth. 
It  wandered  from  one  tribe  of  Indians  to  another,  and  had  been  seen 
hovering  over  the  camp-fires  of  a  thousand  Indians,  when  they  were 
preparing  themselves  to  sleep.  It  always  attracted  attention  and  in 
spired  wonder  and  admiration.  It  often  lighted  upon  the  heads  of 
little  children,  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  playing  with  them,  but  they 
were  invariably  frightened  and  drove  it  away  by  their  loud  crying. 
Among  all  the  people  in  the  world,  only  one  could  be  found  who  was 
not  afraid  of  this  beautiful  star;  and  this  was  a  little  girl;  the  daughter 
of  a  Chippewyan  warrior.  She  was  not  afraid  of  the  star;  but  rather 
than  this,  she  loved  it  with  her  whole  heart,  and  was  very  happy  in 
her  love.  That  she  was  loved  by  the  star  in  return  there  could  be 
no  doubt,  for  wherever  she  traveled  with  her  father  through  the 
wilderness  there,  as  the  night  came  on  did  the  star  follow,  but  it  was 
never  seen  in  the  day  time.  When  the  girl  awoke  at  night,  the  star 
floated  just  above  her  head;  and,  when  she  was  asleep,  it  was  so  con 
stant  in  its  watchfulness,  that  she  never  opened  her  eyes,  even  at  mid 
night,  without  beholding  its  brilliant  light.  People  wondered  at  this 
strange  condition  of  things,  but  how  much  more  did  they  wonder, 
when  they  found  that  the  father  of  the  girl  never  returned  from  the 
hunt  without  an  abundance  of  game.  They  therefore  concluded  that 
the  star  must  be  the  son  of  the  G-ood  Spirit,  and  they  ever  after  spoke 
of  it  with  veneration. 

Time  passed  on,  and  it  was  midsummer.  The  Indian  girl  had  gone 
into  the  woods  for  the  purpose  of  gathering  berries.  Those  of  the 


RECORDS  OP  A  TOURIST.  241 

wiutergreen  were  nearly  all  eaten  up  by  the  pigeons  and  the  deer,  and, 
as  the  cranberries  were  beginning  to  ripen,  she  wandered  into  a  large 
marsh  with  a  view  of  filling  her  willow  basket  with  them.  She  did 
so,  and  in  the  tangled  thickets  of  the  swamp  she  lost  her  way.  She 
became  frightened  and  cried  aloud  for  her  father  to  come  to  her  assist 
ance.  The  only  creatures  that  answered  her  cries  were  the  frogs  and 
the  lonely  bittern.  The  night  was  rapidly  coming,  and  the  farther 
she  wandered  the  more  intricate  became  her  path.  At  one  time  she 
was  compelled  to  wade  into  the  water  even  to  her  knees,  and  then 
again  would  she  fall  into  a  deep  hole  and  almost  become  drowned 
among  the  poisonous  slime  and  weeds.  Night  came,  and  the  poor  girl 
looked  up  at  the  sky,  hoping  that  she  might  see  the  star  that  she 
loved.  A  storm  had  arisen,  and  the  rain  fell  so  rapidly  that  a  star 
could  not  live  in  it,  and  therefore  was  there  none  to  be  seen.  The 
storm  continued,  the  waters  of  the  country  rose,  and  in  rushing  into 
the  deeper  lakes,  they  destroyed  the  Indian  girl,  and  washed  her  body 
away  so  that  it  never  could  be  found. 

Many  seasons  passed  away  and  the  star  continued  to  be  seen  above 
the  watch-fires  of  the  Chippewyans;  but  it  would  never  remain  long 
in  one  place,  and  its  light  appeared  to  have  become  dimmed.  It  ever 
seemed  to  be  looking  for  something  that  it  could  not  find,  and  people 
knew  that  it  was  unhappy  on  account  of  the  untimely  death  of  the 
girl  it  had  loved.  Additional  years  passed  on,  and  with  the  leaves  of 
autumn,  it  finally  disappeared.  A  cold  and  long  winter  soon  followed, 
and  then  the  hottest  summer  that  had  ever  been  known.  During  this 
season  it  so  happened  that  a  hunter  chanced  at  night  to  follow  a  bear 
into  one  of  the  largest  swamps  of  the  land,  when  to  his  astonishment 
he  discovered  a  small  light  hanging  over  the  water.  It  was  so  beauti 
ful  that  he  followed  it  for  a  long  distance,  but  it  led  into  such  danger 
ous  places  that  he  gave  up  the  pursuit,  and  returned  to  tell  his  people 
what  he  had  seen.  And  then  it  was  that  the  oldest  men  of  the  tribe 
told  him  that  the  light  he  had  seen  was  the  star  that  had  been  driven 
from  heaven,  and  that  it  was  now  wandering  over  the  earth  for  the 
purpose  of  finding  the  beautiful  girl  it  had  loved.  And  that  same  star 
is  still  upon  the  earth,  and  is  often  seen  by  the  hunters  as  they 
journey  at  night  through  the  wilderness. 
21 


242  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


ORIGIN    OF    THE   POTTO WATOMIE S. 

ACCORDING  to  the  belief  of  the  Pottowatomies,  there  once  lived  on 
the  western  shore  of  Lake  Michigan  two  great  spirits.  Their  names 
were  Kit-clie-mo-ne-to,  or  the  Good  Spirit,  and  Mat-che-mo-me-to,  the  Evil 
Spirit.  They  were  equally  powerful,  but  the  creation  of  the  world 
was  attributed  to  the  former.  When  he  had  piled  up  the  mountains, 
and  filled  the  valleys  with  running  streams,  he  proceeded  to  people  the 
world  with  living  creatures,  and  allotted  to  each  variety  its  peculiar 
sphere.  He  then  endeavored  to  create  a  being  that  should  resemble 
himself,  but  in  this  attempt  he  did  not  succeed.  The  animal  that  he 
made  looked  and  acted  more  like  a  wolf  than  any  other  creature. 
Disappointed  at  this  failure  the  Good  Spirit  became  angry,  and  seizing 
the  strange  creature  he  had  made  he  threw  it  into  a  great  lake,  and  it 
was  drowned.  A  storm  arose,  and  the  waters  of  the  lake  made  a  ter 
rible  noise  as  they  beat  upon  its  rocky  shores.  Among  the  shells  and 
pebbles  washed  upon  the  sands  were  the  bones  of  the  strange  animal 
that  the  Good  Spirit  had  made,  and  when  the  storm  had  abated  the 
bones  were  turned  into  a  being  who  bore  a  strong  likeness  to  the 
present  race  of  Pottowatomies,  and  that  being  was  the  first  woman. 
So  well  pleased  with  this  creation  was  the  Good  Spirit  that  he  made 
five  other  beings  resembling  her  in  form,  but  only  more  rugged,  who 
were  to  help  her  in  all  her  employments ;  and  these  were  the  first 
men.  One  of  them  was  named  U-sa-rtie,  or  Smoking-Weed ;  another 
Wa-pa-lio,  or  Pumpkin ;  another  Esh-kos-sim-in,  or  the  Melon ;  an 
other  Ko-kees,  or  the  Bean ;  and  the  other  Mon-ta-min,  or  Yellow 
Maize.  The  business  of  these  several  beings  was  to  protect  and 
gather  the  various  productions  of  the  earth  after  which  they  were 
named,  and  in  doing  this  they  continued  to  be  employed  from  the 
time  that  the  acorn  fell  to  the  ground  until  it  became  one  of  the 
largest  trees  of  the  forest. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  243 

The  world  had  now  become  very  beautiful,  and  the  few  men  who 
had  the  care  of  it  very  proud.  They  became  the  friends  of  the  Evil 
Spirit.  They  quarreled  among  themselves,  and  in  process  of  time 
with  the  woman,  whom  they  had  for  a  long  time  obeyed.  They 
looked  upon  her  as  the  queen  of  the  world,  and  coveted  her  power 
and  happiness.  They  tried  to  take  her  life,  but  without  success.  She 
became  acquainted  with  the  wickedness  of  their  hearts,  and  regretted 
that  she  had  ever  been  created.  So  unhappy  did  she  become  that 
she  prayed  to  the  Good  Spirit  to  take  her  to  the  sky ;  and  when  the 
following  evening  came  she  was  transformed  into  a  star,  and  ever 
since  that  time  has  been  the  first  to  take  her  station  in  the  horizon 
after  the  sun  has  disappeared  behind  the  distant  hills.  And  it  is 
thought  that  so  long  f  s  this  star  remains  unchanged  no  misfortune 
can  happen  to  the  world. 

When  the  five  young  men  found  themselves  alone  they  were  sorry 
for  the  unkind  feelings  they  had  manifested  towards  the  woman,  and 
were  constantly  missing  the  brightness  of  her  smiles  and  the  music  of 
her  voice,  which  they  now  remembered  with  mingled  feelings  of  plea  • 
sure  and  pain.  They  were  in  great  tribulation,  and  expected  to 
perish  from  the  face  of  the  earth  for  their  wickedness.  They  called 
upon  the  Evil  Spirit  for  comfort  and  power,  but  he  heard  them  not ; 
he  had  abandoned  them  to  their  fate.  They  then  thought  that  they 
would  implore  the  assistance  of  the  Good  Spirit.  They  did  so,  and 
told  him  that  they  only  wanted  each  the  companionship  of  a  woman, 
like  the  one  that  had  been  taken  away.  Their  prayer  was  answered, 
and  thus  did  they  become  the  husbands  of  affectionate  wives,  from 
whom  are  descended  the  nation  of  Pottowatomies,  or  the  people  who 
make  their  oivn  fres. 


244  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


ORIGIN    OF    THE    CHOCTAWS. 

The  sea  alluded  to  in  this  legend  is  supposed  to  be  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and 
the  mighty  river  the  Mississippi.  So  said  the  educated  Choctavv  Pitchlyn,  from 
whom  it  was  obtained.  The  idea  that  the  Choctaws  were  the  original  mound 
builders,  will  strike  the  reader  as  something  new. 

ACCORDING  to  the  traditions  of  the  Choctaws,  the  first  of  their  race 
"came  from  the  bosom  of  a  magnificent  sea.  Even  when  they  first 
made  their  appearance  upon  the  earth  they  were  so  numerous  as  to 
cover  the  sloping  and  sandy  shore  of  the  ocean  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  and  for  a  long  time  did  they  follow  the  margin  of  the  sea  be 
fore  they  could  find  a  place  suited  to  their  wants.  The  name  of  their 
principal  chief  has  long  since  been  forgotten,  but  it  is  well  remem 
bered  that  he  was  a  prophet  of  great  age  and  wisdom.  For  many 
moons  did  they  travel  without  fatigue,  and  all  the  time  were  their 
bodies  strengthened  by  pleasant  breezes,  and  their  hearts,  on  the  other 
hand,  gladdened  by  the  luxuriance  of  a  perpetual  summer.  In  process 
of  time,  however,  the  multitude  was  visited  by  sickness,  and  one  after 
another  were  left  upon  the  shore  the  dead  bodies  of  old  women  and 
little  children.  The  heart  of  the  Prophet  became  troubled,  and,  plant 
ing  a  long  staff  that  he  carried  in  his  hand,  and  which  was  endowed 
with  the  miraculous  power  of  an  oracle,  he  told  his  people  that  from 
the  spot  designated  they  must  turn  their  faces  towards  the  unknown 
wilderness.  But  before  entering  upon  this  portion  of  their  journey 
he  designated  a  certain  day  for  starting,  and  told  them  that  they  were 
at  liberty,  in  the  meantime,  to  enjoy  themselves  by  feasting  and 
dancing,  and  performing  their  national  rites. 

It  was  now  early  morning,  and  the  hour  appointed  for  starting. 
Heavy  clouds  and  flying  mists  rested  upon  the  sea,  but  the  beautiful 
waves  melted  upon  the  shore  as  joyfully  as  ever  before.  The  staff 
which  the  Prophet  had  planted  was  found  leaning  towards  the  north, 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  245 

and  in  that  direction  did  the  multitude  take  up  their  line  of  inarch. 
Their  journey  lay  across  streams,  over  hills  and  mountains,  through 
tangled  forests,  and  over  immense  prairies.  They  were  now  in  an  en 
tirely  strange  country,  and  as  they  trusted  in  their  magic  staff  they 
planted  it  every  night  with  the  utmost  care,  and  arose  in  the  morning 
with  great  eagerness  to  ascertain  the  direction  towards  which  it  leaned. 
And  thus  had  they  traveled  for  many  days  when  they  found  them 
selves  upon  the  margin  of  an  0-lcee-na-chitto,  or  great  highway  of 
water.  Here  did  they  pitch  their  tents,  and  having  planted  the  staff, 
retired  to  repose.  When  morning  came  the  oracle  told  them  that 
they  must  cross  the  mighty  river  before  them.  They  built  themselves 
a  thousand  rafts,  and  reached  the  opposite  shore  in  safety.  They  now 
found  themselves  in  a  country  of  surpassing  loveliness,  where  the 
trees  were  so  high  as  almost  to  touch  the  clouds,  and  where  game  of 
every  variety  and  the  sweetest  of  fruits  were  found  in  the  greatest 
abundance.  The  flowers  of  this  land  were  more  brilliant  than  any 
they  had  ever  before  seen,  and  so  large  as  often  to  shield  them  from 
the  sunlight  of  noon.  With  the  climate  of  the  land  they  were  delighted, 
and  the  air  they  breathed  seem  to  fill  their  bodies  with  a  new  vigor. 
So  pleased  were  they  with  all  that  they  saw  that  they  built  mounds 
in  all  the  more  beautiful  valleys  they  passed  through,  so  that  the  Mas 
ter  of  Life  might  know  that  they  were  not  an  ungrateful  people.  In 
this  new  country  did  they  conclude  to  remain,  and  here  did  they  es 
tablish  their  national  government  with  its  benign  laws. 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  Choctaw  nation  became  so  powerful  that 
its  hunting  grounds  extended  even  to  the  sky.  Troubles  now  arose 
among  the  younger  warriors  and  hunters  of  the  nation,  until  it  came  to 
pass  that  they  abandoned  the  cabins  of  their  forefathers,  and  settled 
in  distant  regions  of  the  earth.  Thus  from  the  very  body  of  the 
Choctaw  nation  have  sprung  those  other  nations  which  are  known  as 
the  Chickasaws,  the  Cherokees,  the  Creeks  or  Mukogees,  the  Shawnees 
and  the  Delawares.  And  in  the  process  of  time  the  Choctaws  founded 
a  great  city,  wherein  their  more  aged  men  might  spend  their  days  in 
peace  \  and,  because  they  loved  those  of  their  people  who  had  long 
before  departed  into  distant  regions,  they  called  this  city  Yazoo,  the 
meaning  of  which  is,  home  of  the  people,  who  are  gone. 

21* 


246  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    DANCING    GHOSTS. 

THAT  beautiful  phenomenon  known  to  the  white  man  as  the  Aurora 
Borealis,  or  Northern  Lights,  is  called  by  the  Chippeway  Indians  Je-bi- 
ne-me-id-de-wand,  or  the  Dancing  Ghosts.  The  legends  accounting 
for  it  are  numerous,  and  the  following,  which  was  related  to  the 
translator  by  a  Chippeway  hunter,  named  Keesh- Chock,  or  Precipice 
Leaper,  is  quite  as  fantastic  as  the  phenomenon  itself.  That  it  is  a 
very  ancient  tradition  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  the  sacrifice  to 
which  it  alludes  has  not  been  practiced  by  the  Chippeways  for  at  least 
a  century. 

There  was  a  time  when  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  far  North  were 
afflicted  by  a  famine.  It  was  in  the  depth  of  winter,  and  the  weather 
had  for  a  long  time  been  so  eold  that  even  the  white  bear  was  afraid 
to  leave  his  hiding  place.  The  prairies  were  so  deeply  covered  with 
snow  that  the  deer  and  the  buffalo  were  compelled  to  wander  to  a 
warmer  climate,  and  the  lakes  and  rivers  were  so  closely  packed  with 
ice  that  it  was  only  once  in  a  while  that  even  a  fish  could  be  obtained. 
Such  sorrow  as  reigned  throughout  the  land  had  never  before  been 
known.  The  magicians  and  wise  men  kept  themselves  hidden  in  their 
cabins.  The  warriors  and  hunters,  instead  of  boasting  of  their  ex 
ploits,  crowded  around  their  camp-fires,  and  in  silence  meditated  upon 
their  unhappy  doom.  Mothers  abandoned  their  children  to  seek  for 
berries  in  the  desolate  forests,  and  the  fingers  of  the  young  women  had 
become  stiff  from  idleness,  for  they  had  not  any  skins  out  of  which  to 
make  the  comfortable  moccasin.  From  one  end  of  the  Chippeway 
country  to  the  other  was  heard  the  cry  of  hunger  and  distress.  That 
the  Great  Spirit  was  angry  with  his  people  was  universally  believed, 
but  for  what  reason  none  of  the  magicians  could  tell.  The  chief  of  the 
Chippeways  was  the  oldest  man  in  the  nation,  and  he  was  consulted 
in  regard  to  the  impending  calamity.  He  could  give  no  reason  for 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  247 

the  famine,  but  stated  that  he  had  been  informed  in  a  dream  that  the 
anger  of  the  Great  Spirit  could  be  appeased  by  a  human  sacrifice. 
How  this  should  come  to  pass,  however,  he  could  not  tell,  and  there 
fore  concluded  to  summon  to  his  lodge  all  the  medicine-mon  who  lived 
within  a  day's  journey,  for  the  purpose  of  consulting  with  them.  He 
did  so,  and  when  the  council  was  ended  it  was  proclaimed  that  three 
Cbippeways  should  be  immediately  bound  to  the  stake  and  consumed. 
They  were  to  be  selected  by  lot  from  among  the  warriors  of  the  tribe ; 
and,  when  this  sad  intelligence  was  promulgated,  a  national  assembly 
was  ordered  to  convene. 

The  appointed  time  arrived,  and,  in  the  presence  of  a  large  multi 
tude,  the  fatal  lots  were  cast,  and  three  of  the  bravest  men  of  the  tribe 
were  thus  appointed  to  the  sacrifice.  They  submitted  to  their  fate 
without  a  murmur.  Whilst  their  friends  gathered  around  them  with 
wild  lamentations,  and  decked  them  with  the  costliest  robes  and  orna 
ments  to  be  found  in  all  the  tribe,  the  youthful  warriors  uttered  not  a 
word  about  their  untimely  departure,  but  only  spoke  in  the  most 
poetical  language  of  the  happy  hunting  grounds  upon  which  they  were 
about  to  enter.  The  spot  selected  for  the  sacrifice  was  the  summit  of 
a  neighboring  hill  which  was  covered  with  woods.  Upon  this  spot  had 
three  stakes  been  closely  erected,  around  which  there  had  been  col 
lected  a  large  pile  of  dry  branches  and  other  combustible  materials. 
To  the  stakes,  at  the  hour  of  midnight,  and  by  the  hands  of  the  ma 
gicians,  unattended  by  spectators,  were  the  three  warriors  securely 
fastened.  They  performed  their  cruel  duty  in  silence,  and  the  only 
sounds  that  broke  the  stillness  of  that  winter  night  were  the  songs  and 
the  shoutings  of  the  multitude  assembled  in  the  neighboring  village. 
The  incantations  of  the  priests  being  ended,  they  applied  a  torch  to 
the  fagots,  and,  returning  to  their  village,  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
night  in  performing  a  variety  of  strange  and  heart-sickening  cere 
monies. 

Morning  dawned,  and  upon  the  hill  of  sacrifice  was  to  be  seen  only 
a  pile  of  smouldering  ashes.  On  that  day  the  weather  moderated, 
and  an  unusual  number  of  hunters  went  forth  in  pursuit  of  game. 
They  were  all  more  successful  than  they  had  been  for  many  seasons, 
and  there  was  an  abundance  of  sweet  game,  such  as  the  buffalo,  the 


248  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

bear,  and  the  deer  in  every  wigwam.  A  council  was  called,  and  the 
p  atriarch  chief  proclaimed  the  glad  tidings  that  the  Great  Spirit  had 
accepted  their  sacrifice,  and  that  it  was  now  the  duty  of  his  children  to 
express  their  gratitude  by  a  feast — the  feast  of  Litter  roots. 

The  appointed  night  arrived,  and  the  bitterest  roots  which  could  be 
found  in  the  lodges  of  the  magicians  were  collected  together  and  made 
into  a  soup.  The  company  assembled  to  partake  of  this  feast,  was  the 
largest  that  had  ever  been  known,  and,  as  they  were  to  conclude  their 
ceremony  of  thankfulness  by  dancing,  they  had  cleared  the  snow  from 
the  centre  of  their  village,  and  on  this  spot  were  they  duly  congre 
gated.  It  was  a  cold  and  remarkably  clear  night,  and  their  watch- 
fires  burnt  with  uncommon  brilliancy.  It  was  now  the  hour  of  mid 
night,  and  the  bitter  soup  was  all  gone.  The  flutes  and  the  drums 
had  just  been  brought  out,  and  the  dancers,  decked  in  their  most 
uncouth  dresses,  were  about  to  enter  the  charmed  ring,  when  a  series 
of  loud  shoutings  were  heard,  and  the  eyes  of  the  entire  multitude 
were  intently  fixed  upon  the  northern  sky,  which  was  illuminated  by 
a  most  brilliant  and  unearthly  light.  It  was  a  light  of  many  colors, 
and  as  changeable  as  the  reflections  upon  a  summer  sea  at  the  sunset 
hour.  Across  this  light  were  constantly  dancing  three  huge  figures  of 
a  crimson  hue,  and  these  did  the  magicians  proclaim  to  be  the  ghosts 
of  the  three  warriors  who  had  given  up  their  bodies  for  the  benefit  of 
their  people,  and  who  had  thus  become  great  chiefs  in  the  spirit-land. 
The  fire  by  which  their  bodies  had  been  consumed  had  also  consumed 
every  feeling  of  revenge ;  and  ever  since  that  remote  period  it  has 
been  their  greatest  pleasure  to  illume  by  their  appearance  on  winter 
nights  the  pathway  of  the  hunters  over  the  snowy  plains  of  the  north. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  249 


THE    STRANGE    WOMAN. 

IT  was  in  olden  times,  and  two  Choctaw  hunters  were  spending 
the  night  by  their  watch-fire  in  a  bend  of  the  river  Alabama.  The 
game  and  the  fish  of  their  country  were  with  every  new  moon  becoming 
less  abundant,  and  all  that  they  had  to  satisfy  their  hunger  on  the 
night  in  question,  was  the  tough  flesh  of  a  black  hawk.  They  were 
very  tired,  and  as  they  mused  upon  their  unfortunate  condition,  and 
thought  of  their  hungry  children,  they  were  very  unhappy,  and  talked 
despondingly.  But  they  roasted  the  bird  before  the  fire,  and  pro 
ceeded  to  enjoy  as  comfortable  a  meal  as  they  could.  Hardly  had 
they  commenced  eating,  however,  before  they  were  startled  by  a  sin 
gular  noise,  resembling  the  cooing  of  a  dove.  They  jumped  up  and 
looked  around  them  to  ascertain  the  cause.  In  one  direction  they 
saw  nothing  but  the  moon  just  rising  above  the  forest  trees  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river.  They  looked  up  and  down  the  river,  but 
could  see  nothing  but  the  sandy  shores  and  the  dark  waters.  They 
listened,  and  nothing  could  they  hear  but  the  murmur  of  the  flowing 
stream.  They  turned  their  eyes  in  that  direction  opposite  the  moon, 
and  to  their  astonishment,  they  discovered  standing  upon  the  summit 
of  a  grassy  mound,  the  form  of  a  beautiful  woman.  They  hastened  to 
her  side,  when  she  told  them  she  was  very  hungry,  whereupon  they 
ran  after  their  roasted  hawk,  and  gave  it  all  into  the  hands  of  the 
strange  woman.  She  barely  tasted  of  the  proffered  food,  but  told  the 
hunters  that  their  kindness  had  preserved  her  from  death,  and  that 
she  would  not  forget  them,  when  she  returned  to  the  happy  grounds 
of  her  father,  who  was  the  Ilosli-tali-li,  or  Great  Spirit  of  the  Choc- 
taws.  She  had  one  request  to  make,  and  this  was,  that  when  the 
next  moon  of  midsummer  should  arrive,  they  should  visit  the  spot 
where  she  then  stood.  A  pleasant  breeze  swept  among  the  forest 
leaves,  and  the  strange  woman  suddenly  disappeared. 


250  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

The  hunters  were  astonished,  but  they  returned  to  their  families, 
and  kept  all  that  they  had  seen  and  heard,  hidden  in  their  hearts.  Sum 
mer  came,  and  they  once  more  visited  the  mound  on  the  banks  of  the 
Alabama.  They  found  it  covered  with  a  new  plant,  whose  leaves 
were  like  the  knives  of  the  white  man.  It  yielded  a  delicious  food, 
which  has  since  been  known  among  the  Choctaws  as  the  sweet  toncha 
or  Indian  maize. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  251 


THE    VAGABOND    BACHELOR. 

IN  the  great  wilderness  of  the  north,  midway  between  Hudson's 
Bay  and  Lake  Ontario,  lies  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  called  Stone 
Lake.  It  is  surrounded  with  hills,  which  are  covered  with  a  dense 
forest,  and  the  length  thereof  is  about  twelve  miles.  On  the  shore  of 
this  lake  there  stood,  in  the  olden  time,  an  Ottawa  village,  and  the 
most  notorious  vagabond  in  said  village  was  an  old  bachelor.  He  was 
a  kind-hearted  rogue,  and  though  he  pretended  to  have  a  cabin  of  his 
own,  he  spent  the  most  of  his  time  lounging  about  the  wigwams  of 
his  friends,  where  he  was  treated  with  the  attention  usually  bestowed 
upon  the  oldest  dog  of  an  Indian  village.  The  low  cunning  for  which 
he  was  distinguished  made  him  the  laughing-stock  of  all  who  knew 
him,  and  his  proverbial  cowardice  had  won  for  him  the  contempt  of 
all  the  hunters  and  warriors.  Whenever  a  war  party  was  convened 
for  the  purpose  of  pursuing  an  enemy,  Wis-ka-go-twa,  or  the  White 
Liver,  always  happened  to  be  in  the  woods ;  but  when  they  returned, 
singing  their  songs  of  victory,  the  vagabond  bachelor  generally  min 
gled  conspicuously  with  the  victors. 

But,  in  process  of  time,  Wis-ka-go-twa  took  it  into  his  head  to  get 
married,  and  from  that  moment  began  the  troubles  of  his  life.  As 
soon  as  his  resolution  had  become  known  among  the  young  women  of 
the  village,  they  came  together  in  secret  council,  and  unanimously 
agreed  that  not  one  of  them  would  ever  listen  to  the  expected  propo 
sals  of  the  bachelor,  for  they  thought  him  too  great  a  coward  to  enjoy 
the  pleasures  of  matrimony.  Years  elapsed,  and  the  vagabond  was 
still  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  bachelorhood. 

In  the  meanwhile  a  beautiful  maiden,  named  Muck-o-wiss,  or  the 
Whipporwill,  had  budded  into  the  full  maturity  of  life.  She  was 
the  chief  attraction  of  the  village,  and  the  heart  of  many  a  brave  warrior 
and  expert  hunter  had  been  humbled  beneath  her  influence.  Among 


252  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

those  who  had  entered  her  lodge  in  the  quiet  night,  and  whispered 
the  story  of  his  love,  was  Wis-ka-go-twa.  She  deigned  not  to  reply  to 
his  avowals,  and  he  became  unhappy.  He  asked  the  consent  of  her 
father  to  their  union,  and  he  said  that  he  had  no  objections  provided 
the  daughter  was  willing.  It  so  happened,  however,  that  the  maiden 
was  not  willing,  for  she  was  a  member  of  that  female  confederacy 
which  had  doomed  the  vagabond  lover  to  the  miseries  of  single  life. 
Time  passed  on,  and  he  was  the  victim  of  a  settled  melancholy. 

The  sunny  days  of  autumn  were  nearly  numbered,  and  an  occa 
sional  blast  from  the  far  north  had  brought  a  shudder  to  the  breast  of 
Wis-ka-go-twa;  for  they  reminded  him  of  the  long  winter  which  he 
was  likely  to  spend  in  his  wigwam  alone.  He  pondered  upon  the 
gloomy  prospect  before  him,  and  in  his  frenzy  made  the  desperate 
resolution  that  he  would,  by  any  means  in  his  power,  obtain  the  love 
of  his  soft-eyed  charmer.  He  consequently  began  to  exert  himself  in 
his  daily  hunts,  and  whenever  he  obtained  an  uncommonly  fat  beaver, 
or  large  bear,  he  carefully  deposited  it  before  the  lodge  of  Muck-o- 
wiss,  and  he  now  mingled,  more  frequently  than  ever  before,  in  the 
various  games  of  the  village,  and  was  not  behind  his  more  youthful 
rivals  in  jumping  and  playing  ball.  In  a  variety  of  ways  did  he 
obtain  renown,  but  it  was  at  the  expense  of  efforts  which  nearly  de 
prived  him  of  life.  Again  did  he  sue  for  the  smiles  of  Muck-o-wiss, 
but  she  told  him  he  was  an  old  man,  and  that  he  did  not  wear  in  his 
hair  a  single  plume  of  the  eagle,  to  show  that  he  had  ever  taken  a 
scalp. 

The  disappointed  vagabond  now  turned  his  attention  to  war.  It  so 
happened,  however,  that  a  permanent  peace  had  been  established  be 
tween  the  Ottawas  and  the  neighboring  tribes,  so  that  our  hero  was 
baffled  on  this  score  also.  But  he  had  heard  it  reported  in  the  village 
that  a  party  of  Iroquois  warriors  had  been  seen  on  that  side  of  the 
Great  Lake,  and  as  they  were  heartily  hated  by  his  own  tribe,  he 
conceived  the  idea  of  absenting  himself  for  a  few  days,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  playing  a  deceptive  game  upon  the  maiden  of  his  love  and  the 
entire  population  of  the  village  where  he  lived.  Having  formed  his 
determination,  he  kept  it  entirely  to  himself,  and  on  a  certain  morn- 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  253 

ing  he  launched  his  canoe  upon  the  lake  and  disappeared,  as  if  going 
upon  a  hunting  expedition. 

Four  or  five  days  had  elapsed,  and  the  vagabond  bachelor  was  not 
yet  returned.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  sixth  day,  a  couple  of  Indian 
boys,  who  had  been  frolicking  away  the  morning  in  the  woods,  returned 
to  the  village  in  an  uncommonly  excited  mood.  They  visited  almost 
every  wigwam,  and  related  a  grand  discovery  which  they  had  made. 
While  chasing  a  deer  into  a  secluded  bay,  about  ten  miles  down  the 
lake,  they  announced  that  they  had  seen  Wis-ka-go-twa  engaged t in  a 
most  singular  employment.  They  were  aware  of  his  peculiar  reputa 
tion,  and  when  they  saw  him  in  this  out-of-the-way  place,  they  watched 
him  in  silence  from  behind  a  fallen  tree.  The  first  act  which  they 
saw  him  perform  was,  to  shoot  into  the  side  of  his  little  canoe  some 
twenty  of  his  flint-headed  arrows,  which  mutilated  the  canoe  in  a  most 
disgraceful  manner.  He  next  took  some  unknown  instrument,  and 
inflicted  a  number  of  severe  wounds  upon  his  arms  and  legs.  But  the 
deepest  incision  which  he  made  was  on  his  leg,  just  above  the  knee, 
into  which  they  were  astonished  to  see  him  place,  with  a  small  stick,  a 
kind  of  white  material,  which  resembled  the  dry  shell  of  a  turtle.  All 
this  being  accomplished,  they  saw  the  vagabond  embark  in  his  leaky 
canoe,  as  if  about  to  return  to  the  village.  They  suspected  the  game 
that  was  being  played,  so  they  made  the  shortest  cut  home  and  related 
the  foregoing  particulars. 

An  hour  or  two  passed  on,  and,  as  the  sun  was  setting,  the  villagers 
were  attracted  by  a  canoe  upon  the  lake.  They  watched  it  with  pecu 
liar  interest,  and  found  that  it  was  steadily  approaching.  Presently 
it  made  its  appearance  within  hailing  distance,  when  it  was  discovered 
to  be  occupied  by  the  vagabond  bachelor.  Every  man,  woman,  and 
child  immediately  made  their  appearance  on  the  shore,  apparently  for 
the  purpose  of  welcoming  the  returning  hunter,  but  in  reality  with  a 
view  of  enjoying  what  they  supposed  would  turn  out  a  good  joke.  The 
hunter  looked  upon  the  crowd  with  evident  satisfaction,  but  he  mani 
fested  his  feelings  in  a  very  novel  manner,  for  he  was  momentarily  ut 
tering  a  long-drawn  groan,  as  if  suffering  from  a  severe  wound.  As 
the  canoe  touched  the  sand  it  was  found  to  be  half  full  of  bloody 
water,  and  one  of  the  sides  had  evidently  been  fired  into  by  the  arrows 
22 


254'  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

of  an  enemy.  A  murmur  ran  through  the  crowd  that  Wis-ka-go-twa 
must  have  had  a  dreadful  time,  and  he  was  called  upon  to  give  the 
particulars,  when  he  did  so  in  a  few  words.  He  had  been  overtaken, 
he  said,  by  a  party  of  Iroquois,  consisting  of  some  twenty  men,  who 
attacked  him  while  he  was  pursuing  a  bear,  and  though  he  succeeded 
in  killing  four  of  his  rascally  pursuers,  his  canoe  had  been  sadly  muti 
lated,  and  he  had  received  a  wound  which  he  feared  would  be  the  cause 
of  his  death.  In  due  time  the  wound  was  revealed  to  the  public  eye,  and 
the  young  women  turned  away  with  a  shudder;  and  then  the  vagabond 
bachelor  was  conveyed  to  his  lodge,  and  the  medicine-man  sent  for  to 
administer  relief. 

A  day  or  two  elapsed,  and  the  poor  hunter  was  evidently  in  a  bad 
way.  They  asked  him  what  individual  in  the  village  he  would  have 
to  attend  him.  He  expressed  a  preference  for  the  father  of  Muck-o- 
wiss,  who  came  and  faithfully  attended  to  his  duties  as  a  nurse;  but 
the  sick  was  not  yet  satisfied.  "Whom  will  you  have  now ?"  asked 
the  old  man,  and  the  name  of  Muck-o-wiss  trembled  on  the  lips  of 
the  sick  lover.  His  chief  desire  was  granted,  and  for  three  days  did 
the  maiden  attend  to  the  little  wants  of  her  unfortunate  lover.  Another 
day,  and  he  was  rapidly  mending.  He  was  now  so  nearly  restored 
that  the  maiden  began  to  talk  of  returning  to  her  mother's  wigwam. 
This  intelligence  roused  the  hunter  from  his  bed  of  furs,  and  he  once 
more  avowed  his  undying  attachment  to  the  charming  maiden.  She 
repulsed  him  with  a  frown,  and  retired  from  the  lodge ;  so  the  hunter 
was  again  sadly  disappointed.  The  maiden  hastened  to  tell  the  news 
to  all  the  women  of  the  village,  and  after  they  had  enjoyed  themselves 
for  upwards  of  an  hour,  Muck-o-wiss  returned  to  the  wigwam  of  her 
lover,  and  told  him  that  she  would  become  his  wife  on  one  condition, 
which  was,  that  on  the  day  he  shouU  succeed  in  killing  five  bears,  on 
that  day  would  she  enter  his  lodge  and  make  it  her  permanent  home. 
For  an  Indian  to  kill  five  bears  on  one  day  was  considered  a  remark 
able  feat,  and  the  roguish  Muck-o-wiss  thought  herself  secure. 

Days  passed  on,  and  the  vagabond  bachelor  was  again  restored  to 
sound  health  and  devoting  himself  to  the  chase.  It  was  just  the  sea 
son  when  the  black  bear  takeH  up  its  annual  journey  for  the  south, 
and  the  hunter  had  discovered  a  narrow  place  in  the  lake,  where  the 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  255 

animals  were  in  the  habit  of  coming.  It  was  the  last  day  of  autumn, 
and  early  in  the  morning  he  had  stationed  himself  in  a  good  ambush. 
By  the  time  the  sun  cast  a  short  shadow,  he  had  killed  three  fine  spe 
cimens,  and  placed  them  before  the  lodge  of  his  intended  wife.  The 
middle  of  the  afternoon  arrived,  and  he  had  deposited  the  fourth  ani 
mal  at  the  same  place.  The  sunset  hour  was  nigh  at  hand,  and  the 
hunter  had  killed  and  placed  in  his  canoe  the  fifth  and  largest  bear 
that  he  had  ever  seen.  The  happiest  hour  of  the  poor  man's  life  was 
now  surely  nigh  at  hand.  Impatiently  did  he  paddle  his  way  home. 
The  villagers  saw  that  the  vagabond  bachelor  had  been  successful,  and 
Muck-o-wiss  and  all  her  female  companions  were  filled  with  consterna 
tion.  But  the  truly  heroic  warriors,  who  had  striven  in  vain  to  win 
the  love  of  the  village  beauty,  were  not  only  astonished,  but  indignant, 
for  they  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  losing,  in  such  a  manner,  the  prize 
which  had  urged  them  on  in  the  more  noble  deeds  of  war.  But  now 
has  the  canoe  once  more  reached  the  shore.  Upon  his  back  has  the 
hunter  lifted  his  prize,  and  up  the  bank  is  he  toiling  and  staggering 
along  with  the  immense  load,  and  now  has  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the 
lodge  where  he  is  hoping  to  receive  his  promised  bride.  His  heart 
flutters  with  tumultuous  joy — his  knees  tremble  from  fatigue — a  strange 
faintness  passes  over  his  brain — he  reels  from  his  upright  position — 
the  bear  falls  to  the  ground — and  the  vagabond  bachelor  is — dead. 


256  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  WATER  LILY, 

MANY,  many  moons  ago,  an  old  and  very  celebrated  hunter  of  the 
Pottowattomie  nation  was  at  the  point  of  death,  in  a  remote  forest. 
He  was  alone  on  his  bed  of  leaves,  for  he  had  been  stricken  by  the 
hand  of  disease  while  returning  from  a  hunting  expedition.  Among 
the  treasures  that  he  was  to  leave  behind  him  was  a  beautiful  hickory 
arrow,  with  which  he  had  killed  a  great  number  of  animals.  The 
head  thereof  was  made  of  a  pure  white  flint,  and  the  feathers  which 
adorned  it  had  been  plucked  from  the  wings  of  the  scarlet  birds.  It 
had  been  the  means  of  saving  his  life  on  many  occasions,  and  its 
virtues  were  so  peculiar,  that  it  could  pass  entire  through  a  buifalo 
without  being  tinged  with  the  life-blood  of  the  animal. 

The  greatest  weight  which  rested  upon  the  mind  of  the  dying  Indian, 
arose  from  the  idea  that  he  could  not  bequeath  his  arrow  to  his  oldest 
son.  lie  was  alone  in  the  wilderness,  and  it  made  him  very  unhappy 
to  think  that  the  treasure  of  his  family  might  yet  become  the  property 
of  an  enemy,  who  would  be  likely  to  cross  his  trail  after  the  ravens 
or  wolves  had  eaten  his  flesh.  But  this  was  a  thought  that  he  could 
not  possibly  endure,  and  as  the  pall  of  night  settled  upon  the  world, 
he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  northern  star,  which  had  guided  him  through 
many  dangers,  and  prayed  to  the  Master  of  Life  that  he  would  take 
his  arrow  and  carry  it  safely  to  the  smiling  planet.  A  moment  more 
and  the  unknown  hunter  buried  his  head  among  the  dry  leaves,  and — 
died. 

On  the  following  night,  a  terrible  gale  of  wind  swept  over  the  land, 
which  took  the  arrow  from  the  ground  and  hurled  it  into  the  upper 
air.  A  strange  silence  immediately  followed,  when  the  northern  star 
was  seen  to  tremble  in  the  sky :  another  brief  period  elapsed,  and 
there  was  a  deafening  noise  heard  in  the  firmament,  when  the  evening 
star  left  its  own  quiet  home,  and  fell  upon  the  northern  star  for  the 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  257 

purpose  of  winning,  by  single  combat,  the  arrow  of  the  great  hunter. 
The  conflict  was  a  desperate  one,  and  as  the  two  stars  fought  for  the 
earthly  prize,  sparks  of  white  light  shot  from  their  sides,  and  in  un 
numbered  particles  fell  upon  the  country  now  known  as  Michigan. 
A  long  rain  storm  soon  followed,  by  which  the  particles  of  light  were 
taken  to  the  river,  and  by  a  decree  of  the  Master  of  Life,  were  changed 
into  the  beautiful  white  lilies  which  adorn  the  numerous  streams  of 
the  western  country. 


258  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE    FAITHFUL    COUSINS. 

I  NOW  speak  of  two  Chippeway  hunters,  who  lived  among  the 
Porcupine  mountains,  near  Lake  Superior.  They  were  the  oldest  sons 
of  two  brothers,  and  noted  in  their  village  for  the  warm  friendship 
existing  between  them,  and  for  their  powers  in  hunting.  They  were 
very  famous  throughout  the  land,  and  into  whatever  village  they  hap 
pened  to  enter,  the  old  men  asked  them  to  remain  and  marry  their 
flandsome  women,  but  the  hunters  laughed  at  all  such  proposals,  for 
they  had  pledged  their  words  to  each  other  that  they  would  ever 
remain  single  and  free. 

It  was  when  the  leaves  were  fading,  that  the  young  cousins  heard 
of  a  great  hunt  which  was  to  take  place  in  a  distant  village.  It  was 
got  up  by  an  old  warrior,  who  was  the  father  of  a  beautiful  daughter, 
and  he  had  determined  that  the  most  successful  hunter  should  become 
his  son-in-law.  This  intelligence  had  been  conveyed  to  the  cousins 
in  a  secret  manner,  and  on  departing  from  their  own  village,  they  spoke 
not  a  word  of  their  determination.  In  due  time  the  hunt  took  place, 
and  an  immense  quantity  of  game  was  taken.  Some  of  the  hunters 
brought  home  two  bears,  some  three  and  four  deer,  but  the  two  cou 
sins  captured  each  five  bears.  As  no  one  man  had  eclipsed  his  fel 
lows,  it  was  resolved  by  the  old  warrior  that  the  man  who  should 
bring  to  his  lodge  the  scalps  of  ten  bears,  should  be  the  successful 
candidate  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter.  Another  hunt  took  place, 
and  each  of  the  cousins  brought  in,  not  only  the  scalps  of  ten  full 
grown  bears,  but  also  a  large  quantity  of  choice  meats,  which  they 
deposited  at  the  tent  door  of  the  chief.  The  difficulty  of  making  a 
selection  was  now  even  greater  than  before,  but  the  truth  was,  the 
young  friends  had  no  desire  to  marry  the  beautiful  girl,  but  were  only 
anxious  to  manifest  their  bravery,  or  rather  wonderful  expcrtness  in 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  259 

killing  wild  animals.     Their  singular  conduct  astonished  everybody, 
but  mostly  the  venerable  warrior  and  his  favorite  daughter. 

The  important  question  must  be  decided,  however,  and  the  old  man 
resorted  to  a  number  of  expedients  to  decide  upon  a  future  son-in-law. 
The  first  was  that  the  two  cousins  should  enter  upon  a  wrestling 
match — they  did  so,  and  the  twain  fell  to  the  ground  at  the  same 
moment.  The  next  was  that  they  should  try  their  agility  in  leaping 
ov.er  a  suspended  stick,  but  in  this  trial  they  also  came  out  exactly 
even.  The  third  was,  that  they  shoot  their  arrows  at  a  pair  of  hum 
ming  birds,  and  the  maker  of  the  best  shot  to  be  the  lady's  husband ; 
the  arrows  were  thrown,  and  the  right  wing  of  each  bird  was  broken. 
The  fourth  expedient  was  that  they  should  go  upon  a  squirrel  hunt — • 
they  did  so,  and  each  one  returned  with  just  exactly  one  hundred  of 
those  sprightly  creatures.  It  now  came  to  pass,  and  was  whispered 
about  the  village,  that  one  of  the  cousins  had  really  become  interested 
in  the  girl  who  was  the  innocent  cause  of  so  much  contention,  and 
when  her  father  found  this  out,  he  resolved  to  make  one  more  experi 
ment.  He  therefore  commanded  the  young  men  to  kill  each  a  speci 
men  of  the  7ce  necoli  or  war-eagle,  and  the  one  who  should  present  her 
with  the  greatest  number  of  perfectly  formed  feathers,  would  be  wel 
comed  as  a  relative.  The  trial  was  made  and  the  whole  number  of 
feathers  obtained  was  twenty-one,  the  odd  feather  having  been  gained 
by  the  enamored  cousin.  The  girl  was  of  course  awarded  to  him  in 
due  time,  but  what  was  the  surprise  of  all  the  villagers,  when  it  was 
proclaimed  that  he  would  not  receive  the  prize  unless  the  young  men 
of  the  tribe  should  first  build  him  a  handsome  lodge  and  furnish  it 
with  the  choicest  of  meats  and  skins.  At  this  suggestion  the  young 
men  were  greatly  enraged,  but  they  concluded,  in  consideration  of 
their  admiration  for  the  Indian  girl,  to  change  their  minds,  and  forth 
with  proceeded  to  erect  the  new  lodge. 

In  the  meanwhile,  it  was  ascertained  that  the  unlucky  cousin  had 
become  somewhat  offended  at  his  companion,  whereupon  the  accepted 
lover  joined  the  other  in  a  bear  hunt  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  a 
reconciliation.  It  so  happened,  however,  that  the  existing  coldness 
between  them  could  not  be  removed,  and  while  the  twain  were  toiling 
up  a  remote  hill  with  the  view  of  encamping  for  the  night,  the  disap- 


260  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

pointed  cousin  was  suddenly  transformed  into  a  large  fire-fly,  and 
having  ascended  into  the  air,  immediately  experienced  another  change, 
and  became  what  is  now  known  as  the  Northern  Star.  The  remaining 
cousin  felt  himself  severely  punished  by  this  abandonment  for  having 
broken  his  vow,  and  therefore  became  an  exile  from  his  native  land 
and  led  a  comfortless  and  solitary  life ;  while  the  maiden  whom  he 
was  to  wed,  it  is  said,  is  still  waiting  patiently,  but  in  vain,  for  the 
return  of  her  long  lost  lover. 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  261 


THE    OSAGE    DAMSEL. 

THERE  once  lived  in  the  Osage  country  an  Indian  whose  name 
was  Koo-zlie-ge-ne-cah,  or  The  Distant  Man.  He  had  been  a  famous 
warrior  and  hunter,  but  time  had  weakened  his  arm  and  lifted  a  mist 
before  his  eye.  His  wives  were  all  dead,  and  the  only  one  of  his 
kindred  left  upon  earth  to  minister  to  his  wants  was  a  little  damsel, 
his  grandchild,  and  the  joy  of  his  old  age.  The  twain  were  much  be 
loved  by  all  their  tribe,  and  when  journeying  across  the  broad  prairies 
they  were  always  supplied  with  the  gentlest  of  horses,  and  they  never 
had  to  ask  the  second  time  for  their  favorite  food.  Whenever  the 
tribe  came  to  a  halt  on  the  bank  of  a  river,  in  a  country  abounding  in 
game,  the  first  tent-poles  planted  in  the  ground  were  those  belonging 
to  the  Distant  Man  and  his  child,  and  their  tent  always  stood  next  to 
that  of  the  chief. 

It  was  midsummer,  and  the  entire  Osage  nation  was  encamped  upon 
a  plain  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain,  covered  to  the  very  summit  with 
rich  grass  and  brilliant  flowers.  The  last  hunts  had  been  successful, 
and  in  every  lodge  was  to  be  found  an  abundance  of  buffalo  and  deer 
meat.  Feasting  and  merrymaking,  dancing  and  playing  ball,  were 
the  chief  employments  of  the  hour  throughout  the  entire  village, 
while  in  every  direction  upon  the  prairies  the  horses,  with  their  feet 
hobbled,  were  cropping  their  sweet  food.  The  children  and  the  dogs 
sported  upon  the  green  together,  and  many  a  laugh  resounded  long  and 
loud.  The  sun  was  near  his  setting,  when  suddenly  an  unusual  still 
ness  pervaded  the  air.  The  people  gathered  together  in  haste  and 
wondered  what  it  could  all  mean.  The  strange  silence  caused  them 
to  listen  with  increased  attention,  when  a  distant  whoop  came  stealing 
along  the  air.  It  seemed  to  come  from  the  neighboring  mountain, 
and  as  the  multitude  cast  their  eyes  in  that  direction,  they  saw  a  sin 
gle  horseman  coming  towards  their  encampment  with  the  speed  of  the 


262  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

wind.  They  waited  in  breathless  expectation,  and  were  astonished  at 
the  boldness  of  the  stranger  in  riding  with  such  fury  directly  into 
their  midst. 

He  was  mounted  upon  a  black  horse  of  gigantic  size,  with  splendid 
ly  flowing  mane  and  tail,  and  an  eye  of  intense  brilliancy,  and  was 
caparisoned  in  a  most  gorgeous  manner.  The  stranger  was  clad  from 
head  to  foot  with  a  dress  of  many  colors,  and  from  his  hair  hung  a 
great  variety  of  the  most  curious  plumes.  He  carried  a  lance,  and  to 
his  side  were  fastened  a  bow  and  a  quiver  of  arrows.  He  was  in  the 
prime  of  life,  and  his  bearing  was  that  of  a  warrior  chief.  He  avowed 
himself  the  son  of  the  Master  of  Life,  and  his  home  to  be  in  the  Spirit 
Land.  He  said  that  there  was  a  woman  in  that  land  who  had  told 
him  that  the  most  beautiful  maiden  in  the  Osage  nation  was  her 
daughter.  From  other  lips  also  had  he  heard  that  she  was  good  as 
well  as  beautiful,  and  that  her  only  protector  and  friend  was  an  old 
man  named  Koo-ze-ghe-ne-cah.  He  had  asked  for  a  dream  that  he 
might  see  this  being  of  the  earth.  Having  seen  her,  and  being  in  want 
of  a  wife,  he  was  now  come  to  demand  her  of  her  venerable  parent,  and 
forthwith  rode  to  the  door  of  his  tent  to  make  a  bargain.  The  stran 
ger  dismounted  not  from  his  horse,  but  talked  with  the  old  man  lean 
ing  upon  the  neck  of  his  noble  animal,  the  maiden  meanwhile  sitting 
in  pensive  quietness  within  her  tent  door,  working  a  pair  of  moccasins. 
The  old  man  doubted  the  stranger's  words,  and  desired  him  to  prove 
that  he  was  the  son  of  the  Master  of  Life.  "  What  sign  of  my  nature 
and  power  would  you  witness  V  inquired  the  stranger.  "That  you 
would  cover  the  heavens  with  thick  darkness,  picture  it  with  lightning, 
and  fill  the  air  with  loud  thunder,"  replied  the  old  man.  "  Do  this, 
and  my  daughter  shall  be  your  bride."  Suddenly  a  storm  arose,  and 
the  sign  was  fulfilled  to  the  utmost  extent,  so  that  the  entire  nation 
were  stricken  with  fear.  Night  came  on,  the  sky  was  without  a  cloud, 
but  spangled  with  stars,  and  the  air  was  perfectly  serene,  and  when 
the  stranger  and  his  steed  were  sought  for,  it  was  found  that  they  had 
disappeared.  Peace  rested  upon  the  Osage  village,  and  the  oldest  men 
of  that  tribe  never  enjoyed  a  more  refreshing  sleep  than  on  that  me 
morable  night. 

On  the  following  day  everything  about  the  Osage  encampment 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  263 

wore  its  ordinary  aspect,  and  the  events  of  the  previous  day  were 
talked  over  as  people  talk  of  their  dreams.  The  old  man  and  the 
maiden  made  an  offering  to  the  Master  of  Life,  and  while  the  former, 
before  the  assembled  nation,  promised  to  give  up  his  child,  she,  in  her 
turn,  expressed  her  entire  willingness  to  become  the  bride  of  the 
stranger,  should  he  ever  return.  Not  only  was  she  prompted  to  do 
this  by  the  honor  conferred  upon  her,  and  also  by  the  nobleness  of  the 
stranger,  but  she  thought  it  would  make  her  so  happy  to  rejoin  her 
long  departed  mother  in  the  spirit  land.  She  was  only  troubled  about 
the  feeble  old  man,  whom  she  dearly  loved ;  but  when  the  whole  na 
tion  promised,  as  with  one  voice,  to  make  him  the  object  of  their  pe 
culiar  care,  she  was  satisfied. 

Again  was  the  sun  in  the  western  horizon.  Again  did  the  stranger 
appear  mounted  as  before.  But  as  he  entered  the  village,  there  trot 
ted  by  his  side  a  white  horse  of  exceeding  beauty,  decked  from  fore 
lock  to  tail  with  the  richest  and  rarest  of  ornaments.  He  had  come  for 
his  bride,  and  was  impatient  to  be  gone.  He  led  the  white  horse  to 
the  tent  of  the  girl  he  loved,  and  throwing  at  her  feet  a  dress  of  scar 
let  feathers,  he  motioned  her  to  prepare  for  a  long  journey.  When 
she  was  ready,  he  motioned  to  the  white  horse  to  fall  upon  his  knees, 
and  the  maiden  leaped  upon  his  back.  The  twain  then  walked  their 
horses  to  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  and  as  they  passed  along  the 
stranger  took  from  his  quiver  and  tossed  into  the  hands  of  the  Osage 
chief  and  each  of  his  warriors  and  hunters,  a  charmed  arrow,  which, 
he  said,  would  enable  them  not  only  to  subdue  their  enemies,  but  also 
supply  them  with  an  abundance  of  game,  as  long  as  they  roamed  the 
prairies.  The  stranger  now  gave  a  whoop  and  the  horses  started  upon 
the  run.  Their  path  lay  over  the  mountain,  where  the  stranger  had 
been  first  seen.  They  flew  more  swiftly  than  the  evening  breeze,  and 
just  as  the  sun  disappeared,  they  reached  the  summit  of  the  mountain 
and  also  disappeared,  as  if  received  into  the  bosom  of  a  golden  cloud. 


264  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 


THE   SPECTRE   AND   HUNTER. 

The  following  legend  was  originally  translated  into  English  by  an  educated 
Choctaw,  named  /.  L.  McDonald,  and  subsequently  embodied  in  a  private  letter 
to  another  Choctaw,  named  Peter  P.  Pitchlyn.  The  former  of  these  very  worthy 
Indian  gentlemen  has  long  been  dead,  and  it  is  therefore  with  very  great  plea 
sure  that  I  avail  myself  of  the  opportunity,  kindly  afforded  me  by  the  latter 
gentleman,  of  associating  the  legendary  relic  with  my  own.  I  have  ventured, 
by  the  permission  and  advice  of  Mr.  Pitchlyn,  to  alter  an  occasional  expression 
in  the  text,  but  have  not  trespassed  upon  the  spirit  of  the  story. 

KO-WAY-HOOM-MAH,  or  the  Red  Panther,  once  started  out  on  a  hunt 
ing  expedition.  He  had  an  excellent  bow,  and  carried  with  him  some 
jerked  venison.  His  only  companion  was  a  large  white  dog,  which 
attended  him  in  all  his  rambles.  This  dog  was  a  cherished  favorite, 
and  shared  in  all  his  master's  privations  and  successes.  He  was  the 
social  companion  of  the  hunter  by  day,  and  his  watchful  guardian  by 
night. 

The  hunter  had  traveled  far,  and  as  the  evening  approached,  he 
encamped  upon  a  spot  that  bore  every  indication  of  an  excellent  hunt 
ing-ground.  Deer-tracks  were  seen  in  abundance,  and  turkeys  were 
heard  clucking  in  various  directions,  as  they  retired  to  their  roosting 
places.  Ko-way-hoom-mah  kindled  a  fire,  and  having  shared  a  portion 
of  his  provision  with  his  dog,  he  spread  his  deer-skin  and  his  blanket 
by  the  crackling  fire,  and  mused  on  the  adventures  of  the  day  already 
passed,  and  on  the  probable  success  of  the  ensuing  one.  It  was  a  bright 
starlight  night ;  the  air  was  calm,  and  a  slight  frost  which  was  fall 
ing,  rendered  the  fire  comfortable  and  cheering.  His  dog  lay  crouched 
and  slumbering  at  his  feet,  and  from  his  stifled  cries,  seemed  dreaming 
of  the  chase.  Everything  tended  to  soothe  the  feelings  of  our  hunter, 
and  to  prolong  that  pleasant  train  of  associations,  which  the  beauty  of 
the  night  and  the  anticipations  of  the  morrow  were  calculated  to 


RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST.  265 

inspire.  At  length,  when  his  musings  were  assuming  that  indefinite  and 
dreamy  state  which  precedes  a  sound  slumber,  he  was  startled  by  a 
distant  cry,  which  thrilled  on  his  ear,  and  roused  him  into  instant 
watchfulness.  He  listened  with  breathless  attention,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  again  heard  the  cry,  keen,  long,  and  piercing.  The  dog  gave 
a  plaintive  and  ominous  howl.  Ko-way-hoom-mah  felt  uneasy.  Can 
it  be  a  lost  hunter  ?  was  the  inquiry  which  suggested  itself.  Surely 
not,  for  a  true  hunter  feels  lost  nowhere.  What  then  can  it  be? 
With  these  reflections  our  hunter  stepped  forth,  gathered  more  fuel, 
and  again  replenished  his  fire.  Again  came  a  cry,  keen,  long,  and 
painfully  thrilling,  as  before.  The  voice  was  evidently  approaching, 
and  again  the  dog  raised  a  low  and  mournful  howl.  Ko-way-hoom- 
mah  then  felt  the  blood  curdling  to  his  heart,  and  folding  his  blanket 
around  him,  he  seated  himself  by  the  fire  and  fixed  his  eyes  intently 
in  the  direction  from  which  he  expected  the  approach  of  his*  startling 
visitor.  In  a  few  moments  he  heard  the  approach  of  his  footsteps. 
In  another  minute,  a  ghastly  shape  made  its  appearance,  and  advanced 
towards  the  fire.  It  seemed  to  be  the  figure  of  a  hunter,  like  himself. 
Its  form  was  tall  and  gaunt,  its  features  livid  and  unearthly.  A  tattered 
robe  was  girded  round  his  waist,  and  covered  his  shoulders,  and  he 
bore  an  unstrung  bow  and  a  few  broken  arrows. 

The  spectre  advanced  to  the  fire,  and  seemed  to  shiver  with  cold. 
He  stretched  forth  one  hand,  then  the  other  to  the  fire,  and  as  he  did 
so,  he  fixed  his  hollow  and  ghastly  eye  on  Ko-way-hoom-mah,  and  a 
slight  smile  lighted  up  his  livid  countenance,  but  not  a  word  did  he 
utter.  Ko-way-hoom-mah  felt  his  flesh  and  hair  creep,  and  the  blood 
freezing  in  his  veins,  yet  with  instinctive  Indian  courtesy  he  presented 
his  deer-skin  as  a  seat  for  his  grim  visitor.  The  spectre  waved  his  hand, 
and  shook  his  head  in  refusal.  He  stepped  aside,  plucked  up  a  parcel 
of  briers  from  an  adjacent  thicket,  spread  them  by  the  fire,  and  on  his 
thorny  couch  he  stretched  himself  and  seemed  to  court  repose. 

Our  hunter  was  petrified  with  mingled  fear  and  astonishment.  His 
eyes  continued  long  riveted  on  the  strange  and  ghastly  being  stretched 
before  him,  and  he  was  only  awakened  from  his  trance  of  horror  by 
the  voice  of  his  faithful  dog.  "Arise,"  said  the  dog,  suddenly  and 
supernaturally  gifted  with  speech,  "  Arise,  and  flee  for  your  life  !  The 


266  RECORDS  OF  A  TOURIST. 

spectre  now  slumbers  :  should  you  also  slumber,  you  are  lost.  Arise 
and  flee,  while  I  stay  and  watch  !"  Ko-way-hoom-mah  arose,  and  stole 
softly  from  the  fire.  Having  advanced  a  few  hundred  paces,  he  stopped 
to  listen ;  all  was  silent,  and  with  a  beating  heart  he  continued  his 
stealthy  and  rapid  flight.  Again  he  listened,  and  again,  with  renewed 
confidence,  he  pursued  his  rapid  course,  until  he  had  gained  several 
miles  on  his  route  homeward.  Feeling  at  length  a  sense  of  safety,  he 
paused  to  recover  breath,  on  the  brow  of  a  lofty  hill.  The  night  was 
calm  and  serene,  the  stars  shone  with  steady  lustre,  and  as  Ko-way- 
hoom-mah  gazed  upwards,  he  breathed  freely  and  felt  every  appre 
hension  vanish.  Alas !  on  the  instant,  the  distant  baying  of  his  dog 
struck  on  his  ear;  with  a  thrill  of  renewed  apprehension,  he  bent  his 
ear  to  listen,  and  the  appalling  cry  of  his  dog,  now  more  distinctly 
audible,  convinced  him  that  the  spectre  was  in  full  pursuit.  Again 
he  fled  with  accelerated  speed,  over  hill,  over  plain,  through  swamps 
and  thickets,  till  once  more  he  paused  by  the  side  of  a  deep  and 
rapid  river.  The  heavy  baying  of  his  dog  told  him  too  truly,  that  his 
fearful  pursuer  was  close  at  hand.  One  minute  he  stood  for  breath, 
and  he  then  plunged  into  the  stream.  But  scarcely  had  he  gained  the 
centre,  when  the  spectre  appeared  on  the  bank,  and  plunged  in  after 
him,  closely  followed  by  the  panting  dog.  Ko-way-hoom-mah's  appre 
hensions  now  amounted  to  agony.  He  fancied  he  saw  the  hollow  and 
glassy  eyeballs  of  his  pursuer  glaring  above  the  water,  and  that  his 
skeleton  hand  was  already  outstretched  to  grapple  with  him.  With  a 
cry  of  horror  he  was  about  to  give  up  the  struggle  for  life  and  sink 
beneath  the  waves,  when  his  faithful  dog,  with  a  fierce  yell,  seized  upon 
his  master's  enemy.  After  a  short  but  severe  struggle  they  both  sunk ; 
the  waters  settled  over  them  forever.  He  became  an  altered  man. 
He  shunned  the  dance  and  the  ball  play,  and  his  former  hilarity  gave 
place  to  a  settled  melancholy.  In  about  a  year  after  this  strange 
adventure  he  joined  a  war  party  against  a  distant  enemy  and  never 
returned. 


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WITH    SEVEN    BEAUTIFUL    ENGRAVINGS. 

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in  its  favor.  It  is  only  necessary  to  say,  that  the  publishers  have  now  issued  an 
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CONSISTING 

' 

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THE  GREAT   THEOLOGICAL  WORK. 


THE 

COMPREHENSIVE  COMMENTARY  ON  THE  HOLT  BIBLE. 

CONTAINING 

THE  TEXT  ACCORDING  TO  THE  AUTHORIZED  VERSION: 
Scott's  Marginal   References;    Matthew   Henry's   Commentary, 
condensed,  but  retaining  every  useful  thought ;  the  Practical 
Observations  of  Rev.  Thomas  Scott,  D.  D. ; 

WITH   EXTENSIVE,  EXPLANATORY,  CRITICAL,  AND    PHILOLOGICAL 

NOTES, 

SELECTED  FROM 

SCOTT,    DODDRIDGE,    GILL,    ADAM    CLARKE,   PATRICK,   POOLE, 

LOWTH,  BURDER,  HARMER,  CALMET,  ROSENMUELLER, 

BLOOMFIELD,  STUART,  BUSH,  DWIGHT, 

and  many  other  writers  on  the  Scriptures. 

The  whole  designed  to  be  a  digest  and  combination  of  the  advantages  of  the 
best  Bible  Commentaries,  and  embracing  nearly  all  that  is  valuable  in 

HENRY,  SCOTT,  AND  DODDRIDGE. 

Conveniently  arranged  for  Family  and  private  reading,  and,  at  the  same  time, 

particularly  adapted  to  the  wants  of  Sabbath  School  Teachers, 

and  Bible  Classes ; 

WITH  NUMEROUS  USEFUL  TABLES,  AND  A  NEATLY  ENGRAVED 
FAMILY  RECORD. 

Edited  by  REV.  WILLIAM  JENKS,  D.  D., 

Pastor  of  Green  Street  Church,  Boston. 

Embellished  with  FIVE  PORTRAITS,  and  other  elegant  Engravings,  from  Steel 

Plates  ;  with  several  Maps  and  many  Wood  Cuts, 

ILLUSTRATIVE  OF 

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Price  from  $10  to  $15. 

The  whole  forming  the  most  valuable  as  well  as  the  cheapest  Com 
mentary  published  in  the  world. 
2 


NOTICES  AND  RECOMMENDATIONS 

OF  THE 

COMPREHENSIVE    COMMENTARY. 

The  Publishers  select  the  following,  from  the  testimonials  they  have  received 

as  to  the  value  of  the  work  : — 

WE,  the  Subscribers,  having  examined  the  Comprehensive  Commentary,  issued 
from  the  press  of  Messrs.  L.  G.  &  Co.,  and  highly  approving  its  character, 
would  cheerfully  and  confidently  recommend  it  as  containing  more  matter 
and  more  advantages  than  any  other  with  which  we  are  acquainted;  and 
considering  the  expense  incurred,  and  the  excellent  manner  of  its  me 
chanical  execution,  we  believe  it  to  be  one  of  the  cheapest  works  ever  issued 
from  the  press.  We  hope  the  publishers  will  be  sustained  by  a  liberal  patron 
age,  in  their  expensive  and  useful  undertaking.  We  should  be  pleased  to 
learn  that  every  family  in  the  United  States  had  procured  a  copy. 
B.  B.  WISNER,  D.  D.,  Secretary  of  Am.  Board  of  Com.  for  For.  Missions. 
WM.  COGSWELL,  D.  D.,  "  "  Education  Society. 

JOHN  CODMAN,  D.D.,  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Dorchester. 

gev.  HUBBARD  WINSLOW,     '  «  "     BowdoinSt.      " 

ev.  SEWALL  HARDING,  Pastor  of  T.  C.  Church,  Waltham. 
Rev.  J.  H.  FAIRCHILD,  Pastor  of  Cong.  Church,  South  Boston. 
GARDINER  SPRING,  D.  D.,  Pastor  of  Presb.  Church,  New  York  city. 
CYRUS  MASON,  D.  D., 
THOS.  McAULEY,  D.  D.,  <  « 

JOHN  WOODBRIDGE,  D.  D., 
THOS.  DEWITT,  D.D., 
E.  W.  BALDWIN,  D.  D., 
Rev.  J.  M.  McKREBS, 
Rev.  ERSKINE  MASON, 
Rev.  J.  S.  SPENCER, 


Dutch  Ref. 


Presb. 

1C 


EZRA  STILES  ELY,  D.D.,  Stated  Clerk  of  Gen 


Brooklyn. 
Assem.  of  Presb.  Church. 


JOHN  McDOWELL,  D.  D.,  Permanent 
JOHN  BRECKENRIDGE,  Cor.  Sec'y  of  Assembly  s  Board  of  Education. 
SAMUEL  B.  WYLIE,  D.  D.,  Pastor  of  the  Reformed  Presbyterian  Church. 
N.  LORD,  D.  D.,  President  of  Dartmouth  College. 


JOSHUA  BATES,  D.  D., 
H.  HUMPHREY,  D.  D.,  « 
E.  D.  GRIFFIN,  D.  D.,  « 
J.  WHEELER,  D.  D.,  « 
J.  M.  MATTHEWS,  D.D., 
GEO.  E.  PIERCE,  D.  D., " 
Rev.  DR.  BROWN, 


Middlebury 

Amherst  " 

Williamstown  " 

University  of  Vermont,  at  Burlington. 

New  York  City  University. 

Western  Reserve  College,  Ohio. 

Jefferson  College,  Penn. 
LEONARD  WOODS,  D.  D.,  Prof,  of  Theology,  Andover  S.  . 
THOS.  H.  SKINNER,  D.D.,    «         Sac.  Rhet.        " 
Rev.  RALPH  EMERSON,          "         EccL  Hist.       " 
Rev.  JOEL  PARKER,  Pastor  of  Presb.  Church,  New  Orleans. 
JOEL  HAWES,  D.D.,         «         Cong-.         «        Hartford,  Conn. 
N.  S.  S.  BEAMAN,  D.  D.,   «         Presb.        «        Troy,  N.  Y. 
MARK  TUCKER,  D.  D.,    «  "  «  «         « 

Rev.  E.  N.  KIRK,  "  «  «      Albany,  " 

Rev.  B.  B.  EDWARDS,  Ed.  of  Quarterly  Observer. 
Rev.  STEPHEN  MASON,  Pastor  1st  Cong.  Church,  Nantucket. 
Rev.  ORIN  FOWLER,  «  "  «          Fall  River. 

GEORGE  W.  BETHUNE,  D.  D.,  Pastor  of  the  First  Reformed  Dutch  Church. 
Rev.  LYMAN  BEECHER,  D.  D.,  Cincinnati,  0. 
Rev.  C.  D.  MALLORY,  Pastor  Baptist  Church,  Augusta,  Ga. 
Rev.  S.  M.  NOEL,  "  "  "      Frankfort,  Ky. 

From  the  Professors  at  Princeton  Theological  Seminary. 
The  Comprehensive  Commentary  contains  the  whole  of  Henry's  Exposi 
tion  in  a  condensed  form,  Scott's  Practical  Observations  and  Marginal  Refer 
ences,  and  a  large  number  of  very  valuable  philological  and  critical  notes, 
selected  from  various  authors. — The  work  appears  to  be  executed  with  judg 
ment,  fidelity,  and  care;  and  will  furnish  a  rich  treasure  of  scriptural  know 
ledge  to  the  Biblical  student,  and  to  the  teachers  of  Sabbath  Schools  and 
Bible  classes.  A.  ALEXANDER,  D.  D. 

SAMUEL  MILLER,  D.  D. 

CHARLES  HODGE,  D.  D. 


THE  COMPANION  TO  THE  BIBLE, 

In  one  super-royal  volume. 

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ACCOMPANY  THE  FAMILY  BIBLE,  OR  HENRY'S,  SCOTT'S, 
CLARKE'S,  GILL'S,  OR  OTHER  COMMENTARIES. 

CONTAINING 

1.  A  new,  full,  and  complete  Concordance; 

Illustrated  with  monumental,  traditional,  and  oriental  engravings,  founded  on 
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counts,  a  more  valuable  work  than  either  Butterworth,  Cruden,  or  any  other 
similar  book  in  the  language. 

The  value  of  a  Concordance  is  now  generally  understood,  and  those  who 
have  used  one,  consider  it  indispensable  in  connection  with  the  Bible. 

•2.  A  guide  to  the  reading  and  study  of  the  Bible ; 

being  Carpenter's  valuable  Biblical  Companion,  lately  published  in  London, 
containing  a  complete  history  of  the  Bible,  and  forming  a  most  excellent  intro 
duction  to  its  study.  It  embraces  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  Jewish  an 
tiquities,  manners,  customs,  arts,  natural  history,  &c.,  of  the  Bibje,  with  notes 
and  engravings  added. 

3.  Complete  Biographies  of  Henry,  by  Williams; 

Scott,  by  his  son;  Doddridge,  by  Orton; 

with  sketches  of  the  lives  and  characters,  and  notices  of  the  works,  of  the 
writers  on  the  Scriptures,  who  are  quoted  in  the  commentary,  living  and  dead, 
American  and  foreign. 

This  part  of  the  volume  not  only  affords  a  large  quantity  of  interesting  and 
useful  reading  for  pious  families,  but  will  also  be  a  source  of  gratification  to 
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rally  feeling  a  desire  to  know  some  particulars  of  the  lives  and  characters  of 
those  whose  opinions  he  seeks.  Appended  to  this  part,  will  be  a  Bibliotheca 
Biblica,  or  list  of  the  best  works  on  the  Bible,  of  all  kinds,  arranged  under 
their  appropriate  heads. 

4.  A  complete  Index  of  the   Matter  contained  in 

the  Bible  Text. 
5.  A  Symbolical  Dictionary. 

A  very  comprehensive  and  valuable  Dictionary  of  Scripture  symbols  (occupy 
ing  about  fifty-six  closely  printed  pages),  by  Thomas  Wemyss  (author  of 
"  Biblical  Gleanings,"  &c.)  Comprising  Daubuz,  Lancaster,  Hutcheson,  &c. 

6.  The  ivor  Ei  contains  several  other  articles, 

indexes,  tables,  &c.  &c.,  and  is, 

?.  Illustrated  by  a  large  plan  of  Jerusalem, 

identifying,  as  far  as  tradition,  &c.,  go,  the  original  sites,  drawn  on  the  spot  by 
F.  Catherwood,  of  London,  architect.  Also,  two  steel  engravings  of  portraits 
of  seven  foreign  and  eight  American  theological  writers,  and  numerous  wood 
engravings. 

The  whole  forms  a  desirable  and  necessary  fund  of  instruction  for  the  use 
not  only  of  clergymen  and  Sabbath  school  teachers,  but  also  for  families. 
When  the  great  amount  of  matter  it  must  contain  is  considered,  it  will  be 
deemed  exceedingly  cheap.  

"  I  have  examined  «  The  Companion  to  the  Bible,'  and  have  been  surprised 
to  find  so  much  information  introduced  into  a  volume  of  so  moderate  a  size. 
It  contains  a  library  of  sacred  knowledge  and  criticism.  It  will  be  useful  to 
ministers  who  own  large  libraries,  and  cannot  fail  to  be  an  invaluable  help  to 
every  reader  of  the  Bible."  HENRY  MORRIS, 

Pastor  of  Cong.  Church,  Vt. 

The  above  work  can  be  had  in  several  styles  of  binding.     Price 
varying  from  $1  75  to  $5  00. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  HOLY  SCRIPTURES, 

In  one  super-royal  volume. 

DERIVED     PRINCIPALLY    FROM    THE 

MANNERS,  CUSTOMS,  ANTIQUITIES,  TRADITIONS,  AND  FORMS 

OF  SPEECH,  RITES,  CLIMATE,  WORKS  OF    ART,  AND 

LITERATURE  OF  THE  EASTERN  NATIONS; 

Embodying  all  that  is  valuable  in  the  works  of 

ROBERTS,  HARMER,  BURDER,  FAXTON,  CHANDLER, 
AND  THE  MOST  CELEBRATED  ORIENTAL  TRAVELLERS; 

EMBRACING  ALSO 

THE  SUBJECT  OF  THE  FULFILMENT  OF  PROPHECY, 

AS  EXHIBITED  BY  KEITH    AND  OTHERS. 

With  descriptions  of  the  present  state  of  countries  and  places 
mentioned  in  the  Sacred  Writings, 

Illustrated  by  numerous  landscape  Engravings, 

FROM  SKETCHES  TAKEN  ON  THE  SPOT. 

Edited  by  REV.  GEORGE  BUSH, 

Professor  of  Hebrew  and  Oriental  literature  in  the  New  York  City  University. 

&S=The  importance  of  this  work  must  be  obvious,  and  being  altogether 
illustrative)  without  reference  to  doctrines,  or  other  points  in  which  Chris 
tians  differ,  it  is  hoped  it  will  meet  with  favor  from  all  who  Jove  the  sacred 
volume,  and  that  it  will  be  sufficiently  interesting  and  attractive  to  recom 
mend  itself,  not  only  to  professed  Christians  of  all  denominations,  but  also  to 
the  general  reader.  The  arrangement  of  the  texts  illustrated  with  the  notes, 
in  the  order  of  the  chapters  and  verses  of  the  authorized  version  of  the  Bible, 
will  render  it  convenient  for  reference  to  particular  passages,  while  the  co 
pious  Index  at  the  end  will  at  once  enable  the  reader  to  turn  to  every  subject 
discussed  in  the  volume. 

$5=- This  volume  is  not  designed  to  take  the  place  of  commentaries,  but  is  a 
distinct  department  of  Biblical  instruction,  and  may  be  used  as  a  companion  to 
the  Comprehensive  or  any  other  Commentary,  or  the  Holy  Bible. 

THE     ENGRAVINGS 

in  the  volume,  it  is  believed,  will  form  no  small  part  of  its  attractions.  No 
pains  have  been  spared  to  procure  such  as  should  embellish  the  work,  and  at 
the  same  time  illustrate  the  text.  Objections  that  have  been  made  to  the  pic 
tures  commonly  introduced  into  the  Bible,  as  being  mere  creations  of  fancy 
and  the  imagination,  often  unlike  nature,  and  frequently  conveying  false  im 
pressions,  cannot  be  urged  against  the  pictorial  illustrations  of  this  volume. 
Here  the  fine  arts  are  made  subservient  to  utility,  the  landscape  views  being, 
without  an  exception,  MATTER  OF  FACT  views  of  places  mentioned  in  Scripture, 
as  they  appear  at  the  present  day  ;  thus  in  many  instances  exhibiting  in  the 
most  forcible  manner  to  the  eye,  the  strict  and  literal  fulfilment  of  the  remark 
able  prophecies;  "  the  present  ruined  and  desolate  condition  of  the  cities  of 
Babylon,  Nineveh,  Selah,  &c.,  and  the  countries  of  Edom  and  Egypt,  are 
astonishing  examples,  and  so  completely  exemplify,  in  the  most  minute  par 
ticulars,  every  thing  which  was  foretold  of  them  in  the  height  of  their  pros 
perity,  that  no  better  description  can  now  be  given  of  them  than  a  simple 
quotation  from  a  chapter  and  verse  of  the  Bible  written  nearly  two  or  three 
thousand  years  ago."  The  publishers  are  enabled  to  select  from  several  col 
lections  lately  published  in  London,  the  proprietor  of  one  of  which  says,  that 
"  several  distinguished  travellers  have  afforded  him  the  use  of  nearly  Three 
Hundred  Original  Sketches"  of  Scripture  places,  made  upon  the  spot.  "  The 
land  of  Palestine,  it  is  well  known,  abounds  in  scenes  of  the  most  picturesque 
beauty.  Syria  comprehends  the  snowy  heights  of  Lebanon,  and  the  majestic 
ruins  ofTadmorand  Baalbec.*' 

The  above  work  can  be  had  in  various  styles  of  binding. 
Price  from  $1  75  to  $5  00. 

*  5 


THE  ILLUSTRATED  CONCORDANCE. 

In  one  vol.  Royal  8vo. 

A  new,  full,  and  complete  concordance  ;  illustrated  with  monumental,  tra 
ditional,  and  oriental  engravings,  founded  on  Butterworth's,  with  Cruden's 
definitions ;  forming,  it  is  believed,  on  many  accounts,  a  more  valuable  work 
than  either  Butterworth,  Cruden,  or  any  other  similar  book  in  the  language. 

The  value  of  a  concordance  is  now  generally  understood,  and  those  who 
have  used  one,  consider  it  indispensable  in  connection  with  the  Bible. 

Some  of  the  many  advantages  the  illustrated  concordance  has  over  all  the 
others,  are,  that  it  contains  near  200  appropriate  engravings :  it  is  printed  on 
fine  white  paper,  with  beautiful  large  type. 

Price  One  Dollar. 
ENCYCLOPAEDIA   OF  RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE; 

OR, 

Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  Theology,  Religious  Biography,  all  Religions,  Eccle 
siastical  History,  and  Missions;  containing  Definitions  of  all  Religious 
Terms  ;  an  impartial  Account  of  the  principal  Christian  Denominations  that 
have  existed  in  the  World  from  the  Birth  of  Christ  to  the  present  Day,  with 
their  Doctrines,  Religious  Rites  and  Ceremonies,  as  well  as  those  of  the 
Jews,  Mohammedans,  and  Heathen  Nations ;  together  with  the  Manners 
and  Customs  of  the  East,  illustrative  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  a  Descrip 
tion  of  the  Quadrupeds,  Birds,  Fishes,  Reptiles,  Insects,  Trees,  Plants,  and 
Minerals  mentioned  in  the  Bible  :  a  Statement  of  the  most  Remarkable 
Transactions  and  Events  in  Ecclesiastical  History,  Biographical  Notices  of 
the  early  Martyrs  and  distinguished  Religious  Writers  and  Characters  of  all 
Ages.  To  which  is  added  a  Missionary  Gazeteer,  containing  Descriptions 
of  the  various  Missionary  Stations  throughout  the  Globe ;  by  Rev.  B.  B. 
Edwards,  Editor  of  Quarterly  Observer.  The  whole  brought  down  to  the 
present  time,  and  embracing,  under  one  Alphabet,  the  most  valuable  part 
of  Calmet's  and  Brown's  Dictionaries  of  the  Bible  ;  Buck's  Theol.  Diction 
ary  ;  Abbott's  Scripture  Natural  History  ;  Wells'  Geography  of  the  Bible  ; 
Jones'  Christian  Biography;  and  numerous  other  similar  Works.  De 
signed  as  a  complete  Book  of  Reference  on  all  Religious  Subjects,  and 
Companion  to  the  Bible  ;  forming  a  cheap  and  compact  Library  of  Religious 
Knowledge.  Edited  by  Rev.  J.  Newton  Brown.  Illustrated  by  Wood  Cuts, 
Maps,  and  Engravings  on  Copper  and  Steel. 

In  One  Vol.  Royal  8vo.     Price  $4  00. 

LIPPINCOTT'S  EDITION  OF 

THE   OXFORD    QUARTO   BIBLE. 

The  publishers  have  spared  neither  care  nor  expense  in  their  edition  of  the 
BIBLE  ;  it  is  printed  on  the  finest  white  vellum  paper,  with  large  and  beauti 
ful  type,  and  bound  in  the  most  substantial  and  splendid  manner,  in  the  fol 
lowing  styles :  Velvet,  with  richly  gilt  ornaments;  Turkey  super  extra,  with 
gilt  clasps  ^  and  in  numerous  others,  to  suit  the  taste  of  the  most  fastidious. 
OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 

(l  In  our  opinion,  the  Christian  public  generally  will  feel  under  great  obli 
gations  to  the  publishers  of  this  work  for  the  beautiful  taste,  arrangement,  and 
delicate  neatness  with  which  they  have  got  it  out.  The  intrinsic  merit  of  the 
Bible  recommends  itself;  it  needs  no  tinsel  ornament  to  adorn  its  sacred 
pages.  In  this  edition  every  superfluous  appendage  has  been  avoided,  and 
we  have  presented  us  a  perfectly  chaste  specimen  of  the  BIBLE  without  note 
or  comment.  It  appears  to  be  just  what  is  needed  in  every  family, '  the  UN 
SOPHISTICATED  word  of  God.' 

"  The  size  is  quarto,  printed  with  beautiful  type,  on  white,  sized  vellum 
paper  of  the  finest  texture,  and  most  beautiful  surface.  The  publishers  seem 
to  have  been  solicitous  to  make  a  perfectly  unique  book,  and  they  have  ac 
complished  the  object  very  successfully.  We  trust  that  a  liberal  community 

6 


will  afford  them  ample  remuneration  for  all  the  expense  and  outlay  they  have 
necessarily  incurred  in  its  publication.  It  is  a  standard  Bible. 

"  The  publishers  are  Messrs.  Lippincott,  Grambo  &  Co.,  No.  14  North 
Fourth  Street,  Philadelphia."— Bapt.  Record. 

"  A  beautiful  quarto  edition  of  the  BIBLE,  by,  L.  G.  &  Co.  Nothing  can 
exceed  the  type  in  clearness  and  beauty  ;  the  paper  is  of  the  finest  texture; 
and  the  whole  execution  is  exceedingly  neat.  No  illustrations  or  ornamental 
type  are  used.  Those  who  prefer  a  Bible  executed  in  perfect  simplicity, 
yet  elegance  of  style,  without  adornment,  will  probably  never  find  one  more 
to  their  taste." — M.  Magazine. 

LIPPINCOTT'S  EDITION  OF 

BAGSTER'S  COMPREHENSIVE  BIBLE, 

In  order  to  develop  the  peculiar  nature  of  the  Comprehensive  Bible,  it  will 
only  be  necessary  to  embrace  its  more  prominent  features. 

1st.  The  SACRED  TEXT  is  that  of  the  Authorized  Version,  and  is  printed 
from  the  edition  corrected  and  improved  by  Dr.  BJaney,  which,  from  its  accu 
racy,  is  considered  the  Standard  Edition. 

2d.  The  VARIOUS  READINGS  are  faithfully  printed  from  the  edition  of  Dr. 
Blaney,  inclusive  of  the  translation  of  the  Proper  Names,  without  the  addition 
or  diminution  of  one. 

3d.  In  the  CHRONOLOGY  great  care  has  been  taken  to  fix  the  date  of  the  par 
ticular  transactions,  which  has  seldom  been  done  with  any  degree  of  exactness 
in  any  former  edition  of  the  Bible. 

4th.  The  NOTES  are  exclusively  philological  and  explanatory,  and  are  not 
tinctured  with  sentiments  of  any  sect  or  party.  They  are  selected  from  the 
most  eminent  Biblical  critics  and  commentators. 

It  is  hoped  that  this  edition  of  the  Holy  Bible  will  be  found  to  contain  the 
essence  of  Biblical  research  and  criticism,  that  lies  dispersed  through  an  im 
mense  number  of  volumes. 

Such  is  the  nature  and  design  of  this  edition  of  the  Sacred  Volume,  which, 
from  the  various  objects  it  embraces,  the  freedom  of  its  pages  from  all  sectarian 
peculiarities,  and  the  beauty,  plainness,  and  correctness  of  the  typography, 
that  it  cannot  fail  of  proving  acceptable  and  useful  to  Christians  of  every  de 
nomination. 

In  addition  to  the  usual  references  to  parallel  passages,  which  are  quite  full 
and  numerous,  the  student  has  all  the  marginal  readings,  together  with  a  rich 
selection  of  Philological,  Critical,  Historical,  Geographical,  and  other  valua 
ble  notes  and  remarks,  which  explain  and  illustrate  the  sacred  text.  Besides 
the  general  introduction,  containing  valuable  essays  on  the  genuineness,  au 
thenticity,  and  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  other  topics  of  interest, 
there  are  introductory  and  concluding  remarks  to  each  book — a  table  of  the 
contents  of  the  Bible,  by  which  the  different  portions  are  so  arranged  as  to 
read  in  an  historical  order. 

Arranged  at  the  top  of  each  page  is  the  period  in  which  the  prominent  events 
of  sacred  history  took  place.  The  calculations  are  made  for  the  year  of  the 
world  before  and  after  Christ — Julian  period.  The  year  of  the  Olympiad — the 
year  of  the  building  of  Rome,  and  other  notations  of  time.  At  the  close  is 
inserted  a  chronological  index  of  the  Bible,  according  to  the  computation  of 
Archbishop  Usher.  Also,  a  full  and  valuable  index  of  the  subjects  contained 
in  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  with  a  careful  analysis  and  arrangement  of 
texts  under  their  appropriate  subjects. 

Mr.  Greenfield,  the  editor  of  this  work,  and  for  some  time  previous  to  his 
death  the  superintendent  of  the  editorial  department  of  the  British  and  Foreign 
Bible  Society,  was  a  most  extraordinary  man.  In  editing  the  Comprehensive 
Bible,  his  varied  and  extensive  learning  was  called  into  successful  exercise, 
and  appears  in  happy  combination  with  sincere  piety  and  a  sound  judgment. 
The  Editor  of  the  Christian  Observer,  alluding  to  this  work,  in  an  obituary 
notice  of  its  author,  speaks  of  it  as  a  work  of"  prodigious  labor  and  research, 
at  once  exhibiting  his  varied  talents  and  profound  erudition." 

7 


LIPPINCOTT'S  EDITIONS  OF 

THE  HOLY   BIBLE. 

SIX  DIFFERENT  SIZES. 

Printed  in  the  best  manner,  with  beautiful  type,  on  the  finest  sized 
paper,  and  bound  in  the  most  splendid  and  substantial  styles.  War 
ranted  to  be  correct,  and  equal  to  the  best  English  editions,  at  much  less 
price.  To  be  had,  with  or  without  plates,  the  publishers  having  sup 
plied  themselves  with  over  fifty  steel  engravings,  by  the  first  artists. 

BAGSTER'S   COMPREHENSIVE   BIBLE, 

Royal  quarto,  containing  the  various  readings  and  marginal  notes,  disqui 
sitions  on  the  genuineness,  authenticity,  and  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scrip 
tures ;  Introductory  and  concluding  remarks  to  each  book;  philological  and 
explanatory  notes;  table  of  contents  arranged  in  historical  order;  a  chrono 
logical  index,  and  various  other  matter,  forming  a  suitable  book  for  the  study 
of  clergymen,  Sabbath  school  teachers,  and  students. 

In  neat  plain  binding,   -----     from  $4  00  to  $5  00 
In  Turkey  Morocco,  extra,  gilt  edges,         -  "      8  00  to  12  00 

In         "  «         with  splendid  plates,         -  -         "     10  00  to  15  00 

In        "  "        bevelled  side,  gilt  clasps  and  illu 

minations,     -  "    15  00  to  25  00 

THE  OXFORD  QUARTO  BIBLE, 

Without  note  or  comment,  universally  admitted  to  be  the  most  beautiful 

Bible  extant. 

In  neat  plain  binding,  -----    from  $4  00  to  $5  00 
In  Turkey  Morocco,  extra  gilt  edges,          -  "       8  00  to  12  00 

In         "  "         with  steel  engravings,     -  "     10  00  to  15  00 

In         "  "         clasps,  &c.,  with  plates  and  illumi 

nations,     -  ...  "15  00  to  25  00 

In  rich  velvet,  with  gilt  ornaments,     •  "    25  00  to  50  00 

CROW1V  OCTAVO   BIBLE, 

Printed  with  large  clear  type,  making  a  most  convenient  hand  Bible  for 

family  use. 

In  neat  plain  binding,  -  -  -    from        75  to  $1  50 

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In  rich  velvet,  with  gilt  ornaments,      -  "      5  00  to  10  00 

THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL  TEACHER'S  POLYGLOTT 
BIBLE— With  Maps,  &c., 

In  neat  plain  binding,  -            -  -            -    from  60  cts.  to.  $1  00 

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THE  OXFORD  18mo.  OR  PEW  BIBLE, 

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In  velvet,  rich  gilt  ornaments,              -       '*'-            -      "       3  50  to  800 
8 


AGATE   32ino.  BIBLE, 

Printed  with  larger  type  than  any  other  small  or  pocket  edition  extant. 
In  neat  plain  binding,   -  -     from  50  cts.  to  fl  00 

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In  Turkey,  super  extra,      -  -  -  -  "        1  50  to     2  00 

In        «        «  gilt  clasp,          -  -      «       2  50  to    3  50 

In  velvet,  with  rich  gilt  ornaments,  -  "       3  00  to    7  00 

321110.  DIAMOND  POCKET  BIBI,E, 

The  neatest,  smallest,  and  cheapest  edition  of  the  Bible  published. 
In  neat  plain  binding,   -  -  from  30  cts.  to         50 

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In  roan,  imitation,  gilt  edge,    -  -  "     75        to     1  25 

In  Turkey,  super  extra,      -  -  -  -  "     $1  00  to     1  50 

In         «         «  gilt  clasps,         -  -  -       "        1  50  to     2  00 

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Constantly  on  hand,  a  large  assortment  of  BIBLES,  bound  in  the  most 
splendid  and  costly  styles,  with  gold  and  silver  ornaments,  suitable  for  pre 
sentation,  ranging  in  price  from  $10  to  $100. 

A  liberal  discount  made  to  Booksellers  and  Agents  by  the  Publishers. 


LIPPINCOTT'S 
STANDARD  EDITIONS   OF 

THE  BOOK  OF  COMMON  PRAYER. 

IN  SIX  DIFFERENT   SIZES. 
Illustrated  with  a  number  of  steel  plates  and  illuminations. 

COMPREHENDING   THE  MOST   VARIED  AND  SPLENDID  ASSORT 
MENT  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

THE  ILLUMINATED  OCTAVO  PRAYER  BOOK, 

Printed  in  17  different  colors  of  ink,  and  illustrated  with  a  number  of 
steel  plates  and  illuminations,  making  one  of  the  most  splendid  books 
published;  to  be  had  in  any  variety  of  the  most  superb  binding,  ranging 
in  prices 

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In        "        "        "     bevelled  and  panelled  edges,  -       8  00  to  15  00 

In  velvet,  richly  ornamented,     -  12  00  to  20  00 

8vo. 

In  neat  plain  binding,            -  -             -            -            -     $1  50  to  $2  00 

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lOmo. 

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18  mo. 

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32mo. 

A  BEAUTIFUL  POCKET  EDITION,  WITH  LARGE  TYPE. 

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A  BEAUTIFUL  EDITION,  WITH  LARGE  TYPE. 

In  neat  plain  binding,  -  , 

In  roan,  imitation,  gilt  edge,       - 

In  Turkey,  super  extra,          -  -  -  . 

In         "         "         "       gilt  clasps, 

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The  Bible  and  Prayer  Book, 


IN    ONE    NEAT   AND    PORTABLE    VOLUME. 


32mo.,  neat  plain  binding,     - 

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t(  (t  Turkey,  super  extra, 

ALSO  WITH  CLASP,  VELVET,  &C.  &C. 


75  to  $1  00 


$1  00  tO 

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THE  DIAMOND  EDITION  OF  BYRON, 

The  Poetical  Works  of  Lord  Byron,  with  a  sketch  of  his  life,  COMPLETE,  in 
one  neat  duodecimo  volume,  with  steel  plates.  The  type  of  this  edition  is  so 
perfect,  and  it  is  printed  with  so  much  care  on  fine  white  paper,  that  it  can 
be  read  with  as  much  ease  as  most  of  the  larger  editions.  This  work  is  to  be 
had  in  plain  and  superb  binding,  making  a  beautiful  volume  for  a  gift. 

"  THE  POETICAL  WORKS  OF  LORD  BYRON — complete  in  one  volume — published 
by  L.  G.  fy  Co.,  Philadelphia.  "  We  hazard  nothing  in  saying  that,  take  it  alto 
gether,  this  is  the  most  elegant  work  ever  issued  from  the  American  press. 

"  '  In  a  single  volume,  not  larger  than  an  ordinary  duodecimo,  the  pub 
lishers  have  embraced  the  whole  of  Lord  Byron's  Poems,  usually  printed  in 

10 


ten  or  twelve  volumes,  and,  what  is  more  remarkable,  have  done  it  with  a 
type  so  clear  and  distinct,  that,  notwithstanding  its  necessarily  small  size,  it 
may  be  read  with  the  utmost  facility  even  by  failing  eyes.  The  book  is  ster 
eotyped,  and  never  have  we  seen  a  finer  specimen  of  that  art.  Everything 
about  it  is  perfect — the  paper,  the  printing,  the  binding,  all  correspond  with 
each  other  $  and  it  is  embellished  with  two  fine  engravings,  well  worthy  the 
companionship  in  which  they  are  placed. 

"  '  This  will  make  a  beautiful  Christmas  present.' 

"  We  extract  the  above  from  Godey's  Lady's  Book.  The  notice  itself,  we 
are  given  to  understand,  is  written  by  Mrs.  HALE. 

"  We  have  to  add  our  commendation  in  favor  of  this  beautiful  volume,  a 
copy  of  which  has  been  sent  us  by  the  publisher.  The  admirers  of  the  noble 
bard  will  feel  obliged  to  the  enterprise  which  has  prompted  the  publishers  to 
dare  a  competition  with  the  numerous  editions  of  his  works  already  in  circu 
lation ;  and  we  shall  be  surprised  if  this  conven'ent  travelling  edition  does 
not  in  a  great  degree  supersede  the  use  of  the  large  octavo  works  which  have 
little  advantage  in  size  and  openness  of  type,  and  are  much  inferior  in  the 
qualities  of  portability  and  lightness. — Intelligencer. 


THE  DIAMOND  EDITION  OF  MOORE, 

(Corresponding  with  Byron.") 

The  Poetical  Works  of  Thomas  Moore,  collected  by  himself,  complete  in 
one  volume. 

This  work  is  published  uniform  with  Byron,  from  the  last  London  edition, 
and  is  the  most  complete  printed  in  the  country. 

DIAMOND  BYRON.  The  Poetical  Works  of  Lord  Byron,  complete 
in  one  volume,  with  steel  plates,  including  a  Sketch  of  his  Life, 

Moth,    $1  25 

library  style,       1  50 

Arabesque,  gilt  edges,       1  75 

English  Turkey,      2  00 

Turkey,  super  extra,      2  50 

DIAMOND  MOORE.  The  Poetical  Works  of  Thomas  Moore,  com 
plete  in  one  volume,  with  steel  plates,  including  a  Sketch  of  his 
Life,  cloth,  1  25 

library  style,       1  50 

Arabesque,  gilt  edges,       1  75 

English  Turkey,       2  00 

Turkey,  super  extra,      2  50 

THE  POETICAL  WORKS  OF  SHAKSPEARE.     Complete  in  one 

volume,  including  a  Sketch  of  his  Life,  cloth,       1  25 

library  style,       1  50 

Arabesque,  gilt  edges,       1  75 

English  Turkey,       2  00 

Turkey,  super  extra,       2  50 

POEMS  OF  THE  PLEASURES  ;  consisting  of  the  Pleasures  of 
Imagination  by  Akenside;  the  Pleasures  of  Memory,  by  Samuel 
Rogers  ;  the  Pleasures  of  Hope,  by  Campbell  ;  and  the  Pleasures  of 
Friendship,  by  McHenry.  With  a  Memoir  of  each  author,  pre 
pared  expressly  for  this  work,  muslin,  37 

English  Turkey,  gilt  edges,  75 

Turkey, super  extra,       1  00 

MANUAL  OF  POLITENESS,  comprising  the  Principles  of  Etiquette, 
and  Rules  of  Behavior  in  Genteel  Society,  for  persons  of  both  sexes, 

muslin,          25 

English  Turkey,  gilt  edges,          62 
Turkey,  super  extra,       1  00 
11 


THE    ANTEDILUVIANS,  or  the  World  Destroyed  ;    a  Narrative 

Poem,  in  Ten  Books,  by  James  McHenry,  M.  D.  cloth,  75 

THE  YOUNG  DOMINICAN.    With  numerous  Illustrations. 

fancy  muslin, 

MOODY'S  BOOK-KEEPING.  A  Practical  Plan  of  Book-Keeping, 
by  Double  Entry,  adapted  to  a  large  or  small  business,  with  or  with 
out  cash  or  other  auxiliary  books,  to  Daily  Journal  and  Ledger. 
Designed  to  simplify  and  very  materially  abridge  the  labor  and  time 
usually  required  in  book-keeping,  and  the  liability  to  mistakes. 
By  Paul  Moody.  75 

THE  YOUNG  CHORISTER,  a  Collection  of  New  and  beautiful 
Tunes,  adapted  to  the  use  of  Sabbath  Schools,  from  some  of  the 
most  distinguished  composers;  together  with  many  of  the  author's 
compositions.  Edited  by  Minard  W.  Wilson.  38 

ROBOTHAM'S    POCKET   FRENCH   DICTIONARY,  carefully  re- 

vised,  and  the  pronunciation  of  all  the  difficult  words  added,  roan,          37 

Arabesque,  75 

Turkey,     1  00 

THE  CLERGY  OF  AMERICA:  consisting  of  Anecdotes  illustrative 
of  the  Character  of  Ministers  of  Religion  in  the  United  States. 
By  Joseph  Belcher,  D.  D.,  Editor  of  "  The  Complete  Works  of 
Andrew  Fuller,"  "Robert  Hall,"  &c.  &c.  cloth,  1  00 

"This  very  interesting  and  instructive  collection  of  pleasing  and  solemn  remem 
brances  of  many  pious  men,  illustrates  the  character  of  the  day  in  which  they  lived, 
and  defines  the  men  more  clearly  than  very  elaborate  essays  "—Baltimore  American. 

•'  We  regard  the  collection  as  highly  interesting,  and  judiciously  made."— Presby 
terian. 


A  BEAUTIFUL  AND  VALUABLE  PRESENTATION  BOOK. 

THE  POET'S  OFFERING-. 

EDITED  BY  MRS.  HALE. 

With  a  Portrait  of  the  Editress,  a  Splendid  Illuminated  Title  Page,  and  Twelve 
Beautiful  Engravings  by  Sartain. 

BOUND  IN  RICH  TURKEY  MOROCCO,  AND  EXTRA  CLOTH,  GILT  EDGES. 

To  those  who  wish  to  make  a  present  that  will  never  lose  its  value,  this 
will  be  found  the  most  desirable  Gift  Book  ever  published.  , 

OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS. 

"  We  commend  it  to  all  who  desire  to  present  a  friend  with  a  volume  not  only  very 
beautiful,  but  of  solid  intrinsic  value."—  Washington  Union. 

"  A  perfect  treasury  of  the  thoughts  and  fancies  of  the  best  English  and  American 
Poets.  The  paper  and  printing  are  beautiful,  and  the  binding  rich,  elegant,  and  sub 
stantial  ;  the  most  sensible  and  attractive  of  all  the  elegant  Gift  books  we  have 
seen."—  Evening  Bulletin. 

"  It  contains  the  choicest  specimens  of  British  and  American  Literature  arranged 
under  their  appropriate  heads,  so  that  the  appearances  of  nature,  the  feelings,  pas 
sions,  pursuits  of  life,  all  have  their  separate  pjace.  thus  enabling  the  most  eminent 
Poets  to  speak  as  it  were  in  their  best  manner  and  on  their  favorite  theme.  It  will 
meet  with  a  larger  sale  than  any  other  Gift  book  published." — Germantown  Telegraph. 

"The  publishers  deserve  the  thanks  of  the  public  for  so  happy  a  thought,  so  well 
executed.  The  engravings  are  by  the  best  artists,  and  the  other  portions  of  the  work 
correspond  in  elegance."—  Public  Ledger. 

"  A  more  appropriate  or  valuable  Holiday  Gift  has  not  yet  appeared." — Pa.  Inquirer. 

"  There  is  no  book  of  selections  so  diversified  and  appropriate,  within  our  know 
ledge."—  Pennsylvanian. 

"  It  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  as  well  as  elegant  books  ever  published  in  this 
country."—  Godey's  Lady's  Book. 

"Mrs.  Hale  in  this  work  has  fulfilled  the  highest  requisition  laid  upon  modern  ge 
nius  and  taste.  The  extracts  are  almost  numberless— and  yet  we  cannot  discover  one 
•which  does  not  possess  some  special  beauty. 

"It  is  the  most  beautiful  and  the  most  useful  offering  ever  bestowed  on  the  public. 

"  Whatever  you  purchase,  obtain  the  '  Poet's  Offering.'  No  individual  of  literary 
taste  will  venture  to  be  without  it." — The  City  Item. 

12 


VALUABLE  AND  POPULAR  BOOKS, 

Particularly  Suitable  for  Family  Libraries. 

PUBLISHED   BY  LIPPINCOTT,  GRAMBO  &  CO., 

SUCCESSORS   TO    GRIGG,   ELLIOT   &   CO, 
No.  14  North  Fourtti  Street,  Philadelphia. 

AND   FOR   SALE  BY  BOOKSELLERS  AND  COUNTRY  MERCHANTS  GENE 
RALLY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


"  EDUCATED  MIND  is  a  Nation's  wealth,  and  promotes  the  happiness  of  mankind." 

FARMERS,  LOOK  TO  YOUR  INTERESTS! 

The  following  Books  are  particularly  adapted  for  a  Farmer's  Library. 

ONE  DOLLAR 

Once  expended  in  useful  precaution  may  save  you 
Hundreds  of  Dollars  absolute  Losses  every  Year, 

It  is  a  fact  too  clearly  established  to  admit  of  doubt  or  disputation, 
that  in  the  animal  kingdom  as  in  the  human  family,  multitudes  of 
lives  and  consequent  losses  of  property,  are  occasioned  by 

Ignorance  of  those  simple  remedies  which  are 
within  the  reach  of  every  one. 

How  important,  therefore,  that  every 


should  be  possessed  of  that  knowledge,  without  which 

Neither  Life  nor  Property  is  exempt  from  danger, 

As  Works  of  unparalleled  value  in  this  respect,  the  Publishers  would  respect 
fully  call  the  attention  of  the 

FARMING  AND  STOCK  RAISING  COMMUNITY 

TO  THE  FOLLOWING  BOOKS: 


Mason's  Farrier  and  Stud  Book— New  Edition, 


THE  GENTLEMAN'S  NEW  POCKET  FARRIER: 

COMPRISING  A   GENERAL   DESCRIPTION   OF   THE  NOBLE  AND  USEFUL   ANIMAL, 

THE  HORSE; 

With  modes  of  management  in  all  cases,  and  treatment  in  disease. 

BY  RICHARD  MASON,  M.D., 

Formerly  of  Surry  County,  Virginia. 

TO  1VHICH  IS   ADDED,  A   PRIZE    ESSAY  ON  MULES; 
An  Appendix,  containing  Recipes  for  Diseases  of  Horses,  Oxen,  Cows.  Calves,  Sheep, 
Dogs,  Swine,  etc.  etc.,  with  annals  of  the  Turf,  American  Stud  Book, 
Rules  for  Training,  Racing,  etc. 

WITH    A    SUPPLEMENT: 

Comprising  an  Essay  on  Domestic  Animals,  especially  the  Horse;  with  Remarks  on 
Treatment  and  Breeding;  together  with  Trotting  and  Racing  Tables,  showing  the 
best  time  on  record,  at  one.  two,  three  and  four  mile  heats;  Pedigrees  of  Winning 
Horses,  since  1839;  and  of  the  most  celebrated  Stallions  and  Mares;  with  Useful 
Calving  and  Lambing  Tables.  &c.  &c.  BY  J.  S.  SKINNER,  Editor  now  of  the  Far 
mer's  Library,  New  York;  Founder  of  the  American  Farmer,  in  1819  ,  and  of  the  Turf 
Register  and  Sporting  Magazine,  in  1829 ;  being  the  first  Agricultural  and  the  first 
Sporting  Periodicals  established  in  the  United  States. 

A  1 


Hinds'  Farriery  and  Stud-Book—New  Edition. 

FARRIERY, 

TAUGHT  ON  A  NEW  AND  EASY   PLAN, 

BEING  A  TREATISE  ON  THE 

DISEASES  AND  ACCIDENTS  OF  THE  HORSE ; 

WITH 

Instructions  to  the  Shoeing  Smith,  Farrier,  and  Groom,  preceded  by  a  Popular  Descrip 
tion  of  the  Animal  Functions  in  Health,  and  how  these  are  to 
be  restored  when  disordered. 

BY  JOHN  HINDS,  Veterinary  Surgeon. 

With  considerable  Additions  and  Improvements,  particularly  adapted  to  this  Country 

BY  THOMAS  M.  SMITH, 

Veterinary  Surgeon,  and  Member  of  the  London  Veterinary  Medical  Society. 
WITH    A    SUPPLEMENT: 

COMPRISING 

An  Essay  on  Domestic  Animals,  especially  the  Horse  ;  with  Remarks  on  Treatment  and 

Breeding;  together  with  Trotting  and  Racing  Tables,  showing  the  best  time  on 

Record,  at  one,  two,  three,  and  four  mile  heats;  pedigrees  of  Winning 

Horses,  since  1839;  and  of  the  most  celebrated  Stallions  and 

Mares  :  with  Useful  Calving  and  Lambing 

Tables,  &c.&c. 

BY    J.    S.    SKINNER, 

Editor  now  of  the  Farmer's  Library,  New  York  ;  Founder  of  the  American  Farmer,  in 

1819;  and  of  the  Turf  Register  and  Sporting  Magazine,  in  1S29:  being  the  first 

Agricultural  and  the  first  Sporting  Periodicals  established  in  the 

United  States. 
THE  PTJBLISHEHS  HAVE  RECEIVED  NUMEROUS  FLATTERING  NOTICES  of  the  great 

practical  value  of  these  works.  The  distinguished  editor  of  the  American  Far 
mer,  speaking  of  them,  observes — "We  cannot  too  highly  recommend  these 
books,  and  therefore  advise  every  owner  of  a  horse  to  obtain  them." 

"  There  are  receipts  in  those  books  that  show  how  FOUNDER  may  be  cured, 
and  the  traveler  pursue  his  journey  the  next  day,  by  giving  a  tablespoonful  of 
alum.  This  was  got  from  Dr.  P.  Thornton,  of  Montpelier,  Rappahannock 
County,  Virginia,  as  founded  on  his  own  observation  in  several  cases." 

"  The  constant  demand  for  MASON  AND  HINDS'  FARRIER,  has  induced  the 
publishers,  Messrs.  GRIGG,  ELLIOT  &  Co.,  to  put  forth  new  editions  with  a  '  SUP 
PLEMENT'  of  100  pages,  by  J.  S.  SKINNER,  Esq.  We  should  have  sought  to 
render  an  acceptable  service  to  our  agricultural  readers,  by  giving  a  chapter 
from  the  Supplement,  '  On  the  relations  between  Man  and  the  Domestic  Ani 
mals — especially  the  Horse — and  the  obligations  they  impose;'  or  the  one  on 
<  The  Form  of  Animals,' — but  that  either  one  of  them  would  overrun  the  space 
here  allotted  to  such  subjects." 

«  LIST  OF  MEDICINES, 
And  other  articles  which  ought  to  be  at  hand  about  every  training  and  livery 

stable,  and  every  Farmer's  and  Breeder's  establishment,  will  be  found  in 

these  valuable  works." 


RUSCHENBERGER'S  NATURAL  HISTORY, 

IN  Two  BEAUTIFUL  VOLUMES  WORTHY  OF  THE  HIGHEST  COMMENDATION. 

They  embrace  elements  of  Anatomy  and  Physiology,  Mammalogy.  Ornithology.  Her- 
petology,  Conchology,  Entomology,  Botany  and  Geology,  each  of  which  Divisions  of 
Science  is  treated  of  in  the  most  masterly  yet  simple  manner,  on  the,  basis  of  a  set  of 
works  ordered  and  approved  by  the  Royal  Council  of  Public  Instruction  in  France. 

The  author  has  done  his  work  well,  and  is  highly  complimented  by  ihe  most  distin 
guished  scholars  in  the  country.  The  work  is  a  text-book  in  the  Philadelphia  High 
School.  It  is  splendidly  illustrated,  and  parents  could  not  dp  better  than  to  present  their 
children  with  this  book  in  preference  to  those  of  a  more  trivial  character,  combining  as 
it  does  amusement  with  important  instruction.  Any  one  of  the  works  may  be  had 
separately. 

2- 


BIGLAND'S  NATURAL  HISTORY 

Of  Animals,  Birds,  Fishes,  Reptiles  and  Insects,  illustrated  with  numerous  and 

beautiful   engravings.      By  JOHN  BIGLAND,  author  of  a  "  View   of  the 

World,"  "  Letters  on  Universal  History,"  &c.     Complete  in  1  vol.  12mo. 

This  work  is  particularly  adapted  for  the  use  of  Schools  and  Families,  forming  the  most 

elegantly  written  and  complete  work  on  the  subjec*   of  Natural  History  ever  published, 

and  is  worthy  of  the  special  attention  of  the  teachers  of  all  our  schools  and  academies. 


GOLDSMITH'S    AOTHATED    NATURE. 
IN  TWO  VOLS.  OCTAVO. 

Beautifully  Illustrated  with  385  Plates. 

"  Goldsmith  can  never  be  made  obsolete  while  delicate  genius,  exquisite  feel 
ing,  fine  invention,  the  most  harmonious  metre,  and  the  happiest  diction  are  at 
all  valued." 

This  is  a  work  that  should  be  in  the  library  of  every  family,  being  written  by 
one  of  the  most  talented  authors  in  the  English  language. 


McMAHON'S  AMERICAN  GARDENER, 

NINTH  EDITION,  MUCH  IMPROVED.  lf 

In  one  volume,  octavo. 

This  is  an  invaluable  work  to  all  who  wish  to  obtain  any  information  on  the 
subject  of  Gardening  in  all  its  various  branches. 


CHAMBERS'  INFORMATION  FOR  THE  PEOPLE; 

OR, 

POPULAR    ENCYCLOPEDIA: 

EMBRACING  ALL  THE  BRANCHES  OF  GENERAL  KNOWLEDGE  NECESSARY  TO  CONSTITUTE 

A  WELL  INFORMED  MAN. 

Altogether,  1700  Imperial  Octavo  Pages,  Two  Large  Volumes  of  850  Pages  each. 
J)3r  This  work  should  find  a  place  in  every  Family  Library. 


SPLENDID  LIBRARY  EDITIONS, 

ILLUSTRATED    STANDARD    POETS. 

Elegantly  Printed  and  Uniform  in  Size  and  Style. 

The  following  editions  of  Standard  British  Poets  are  illustrated  with  numerous 
steel  engravings,  and  may  be  had  in  all  varieties  of  binding. 

BYRON'S    WORKS. 

Complete  in  1  VoL  Octavo. 

Including  all  his  Suppressed  and  Attributed  Poems;  with  6  beautiful 

engravings. 

|0»  This  edition  has  been  carefully  compared  with  the  recent  London  edition  of  Mr. 
Murray,  and  made  complete  by  the  addition  of  more  than  fifty  pages  of  poems  hereto 
fore  unpublished  in  England.  Among  these  there  are  a  number  that  have  never  appear 
ed  in  any  American  edition;  and  the  publishers  believe  they  are  warranted  in  saying 
that  this  is  the  most  complete  edition  of  Lord  Byron's  Poetical  Works  ever  published  in 
the  United  States. 

q 


LAURENCE    STERNE'S   WORKS, 

WITH  A  LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR,  WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF, 

With  7  Beautiful  Illustrations,  engraved  by  Gilbert  and  Gihon, 

from  Designs  by  Darley. 

ONE   VOLUME   OCTAVO,  CLOTH    GILT. 

To  commend,  or  to  criticise  Sterne's  works,  in  this  age  of  the  world,  would 
be  all  "  wasteful  and  extravagant  excess."  Uncle  Toby — Corporal  Trim — The 
Widow — Le  Fevre — Poor  Maria — The  Captive — even  the  Dead  Ass, — this  is  all 
we  have  to  say  of  Sterne  ;  and  in  the  memory  of  these  characters,  histories  and 
sketches,  a  thousand  follies  and  worse  than  follies  are  forgotten.  The  volume 
is  a  very  handsome  one. 


BOOK    OF    POLITENESS. 

THE  GENTLEMAN  AND  LADY'S 

BOOK  DF  POLITENESS  AND  PROPRIETY  OF  DEPORTMENT. 

DEDICATED  TO  THE  YOUTH  OF  BOTH  SEXES. 

BY  MADAME  CELNART. 
Translated  from  the  Sixth  Paris  edition,  enlarged  and  improved, 

Fifth  American  Edition.    1  Vol.  18mo. 


A  Dictionary  of* 
SELECT  AUTD  POPULAR  QUOTATIONS, 

WHICH  ARE  IN  DAILY  USE : 

TAKEN  FROM  THE  LATIN,  FRENCH,  GREEK,  SPANISH  AND 
ITALIAN  LANGUAGES  ; 

TOGETHER  WITH  A  COPIOUS  COLLECTION  OF  LAW  MAXIMS  AND  LAW  TERMS 

Translated  into  English,  with  illustrations,  Historical  and  Idiomatic. 

New  American  edition,  corrected  with  additions, 

One  Vol.  13iiio. 

This  volume  comprises  a  copious  collection  of  legal  and  other  terms,  which 
are  in  common  use,  with  English  translations  and  Historical  Illustrations,  and 
we  should  judge  its  author  had  surely  been  to  a  great  "  Feast  of  Languages," 
and  stole  all  the  scraps.  A  work  of  this  character  should  have  an  extensive 
sale,  as  it  entirely  obviates  a  serious  difficulty  in  which  most  readers  are  involved 
by  the  frequent  occurrence  -of  Latin,  Greek,  and  French  passages,  which  we 
suppose  are  introduced  by  authors  for  a  mere  show  of  learning — a  difficulty  very 
perplexing  to  readers  in  general.  This  "  Dictionary  of  Quotations,"  concerning 
which  too  much  cannot  be  said  in  its  favor,  effectually  removes  the  difficulty, 
and  gives  the  reader  an  advantage  over  the  author,  for  we  believe  a  majority 
are  themselves  ignorant  of  the  meaning  of  the  terms  they  employ — very  few 
truly  learned  authors  will  insult  their  readers  by  introducing  Latin  or  French 
quotations  in  their  writings  when  "  Plain  English"  is  just  aa  good  ;  but  we  will 
not  enlarge  on  this  point. 

If  the  book  is  useful  to  those  unacquainted  with  other  languages,  it  is  no  less 
valuable  to  the  classically  educated  as  a  book  of  reference,  and  answers  all  the 
purposes  of  a  Lexicon — indeed,  on  many  accounts,  it  is  better.  It  saves  the 
trouble  of  tumbling  over  the  larger  volumes,  to  which  every  one,  and  especially 
those  engaged  in  the  Legal  Profession,  are  very  often  subjected.  It  should 
have  a  place  in  every  library  in  the  country. 

6 


THE  AMERICAN  CHESTERFIELD; 
Or,  "Youth's  Guide  to  the  Way  to  Wealth,  Honor,  and  Dis 
tinction,"  &c.    18mo, 

CONTAINING  ALSO  A  COMPLETE  TREATISE  ON  THE  ART  OF  CARVING. 

"  We  most  cordially  recommend  the  American  Chesterfield  to  general  atten 
tion  ;  but  to  young  persons  particularly,  as  one  of  the  best  works  of  the  kind 
that  has  ever  been  published  in  this  country.  It  cannot  be  too  highly  appre 
ciated,  nor  its  perusal  be  unproductive  of  satisfaction  and  usefulness." 


SENECA'S    MORALS. 

BY  WAY  OF  ABSTRACT  TO  WHICH  IS  ADDED,  A  DISCOURSE  UN 
DER  THE  TITLE  OF  AN  AFTER-THOUGHT. 

By  Sir  Roger  L<'Estrange?  Knt. 

A  NEW  FINE  EDITION,  ONE  VOLUME,  18MO. 

A  copy  of  this  valuable  little  work  should  be  found  in  every  family  library. 


BURDER'S  VILLAGE   SERMONS. 
Or,   101 

PLAIN  AND  SHORT  DISCOURSES  ON  THE  PRINCIPAL  DOCTRINES  OF  THE 

GOSPEL; 

INTENDED  FOR  THE  USE  OF  FAMILIES,  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS,  OR  COMPANIES  ASSEMBLED 
FOR  RELIGIOUS  INSTRUCTION  IN  COUNTRY  VILLAGES. 

BY  GEORGE  BURDER. 

To  which  is  added  to  each  Sermon,  a  Short  Prayer,  with  some  General 
Prayers  for  Families,  Schools,  &c.,  at  the  end  of  the  work. 

Complete  in  One  Volume*  Octavo. 

These  sermons,  which  are  characterized  by  a  beautiful  simplicity,  the  entire 
absence  of  controversy,  and  a  true  evangelical  spirit,  have  gone  through  many 
and  large  editions,  and  been  translated  into  several  of  the  continental  languages. 
"  They  have  also  been  the  honored  means  not  only  of  converting  many  indivi 
duals,  but  also  of  introducing  the  Gospel  into  districts,  and  even  into  parish 
churches,  where  before  it  was  comparatively  unknown." 
"  This  work  fully  deserves  the  immortality  it  has  attained." 
This  is  a  fine  library  edition  of  this  invaluable  work,  and  when  we  say  that  it 
should  be  found  in  the  possession  of  every  family,  we  only  reiterate  the  senti 
ments  and  sincere  wishes  of  all  who  take  a  deep  interest  in  the  eternal  welfare 
of  mankind. 


New  Song  Book. 


Grigg's  Southern  and  Western  Songster; 

BEING  A 

CHOICE  COLLECTION  OF  THE  MOST  FASHIONABLE   SONGS. 
MANY  OF  WHICH  ARE  ORIGINAL. 

In  One  Vol.  18mo. 

Great  care  was  taken  in  the  selection,  to  admit  no  song  that  contained,  in  the 
slightest  degree,  any  indelicate  or  improper  allusions,  and  with  great  propriety 
it  may  claim  the  title  of  "  The  Parlor  Song  Book  or  Songster."  The  immortal 
Shakspeare  observes — 

"  The  man  that  hath  not  music  in  himself, 
Nor  is  not  moved  with  concord  of  sweet  sounds, 
Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils." 


Family  Prayers  and  Hymns 

ADAPTED  TO  FAMILY  WORSHIP.  AND  TABLES  FOR  THE 

REGULAR  READING  OF  THE  SCRIPTURES. 

BY    REV.    S.    C.    WINCHESTER,  A.  M., 

Late  Pastor  of  the  Sixth  Presbyterian  Church,  Philadelphia ;  and  the  Presbyte 
rian  Church  at  Natchez,  Miss. 
One   Volume, 


THE    WESTERN    MERCHANT, 

A  NARRATIVE 

CONTAINING   USEFUL  INSTRUCTION  FOR  THE  WESTERN  MAN  OF 
BUSINESS,  WHO  MAKES  HIS  PURCHASES  IN  THE  EAST  ; 

ALSO, 

INFORMATION  FOR  THE  EASTERN  MAN   WHOSE  CUSTOMERS 
ARE  IN  THE  WEST:  LIKEWISE  HINTS  FOR  THOSE  WHO 
DESIGN  EMIGRATING  TO  THE  WEST:  DEDUCED 
FROM  ACTUAL  EXPERIENCE. 

BY  LUKE  SHORT/FIELD,  A  Western  Merchant 

In  One  Volume,  12mo. 

This  is  a  new  work  and  will  be  found  very  interesting  to  the  Country 
Merchant,  &c.  &c. 

A  sprightly,  pleasant  book,  with  a  vast  amount  of  information  in  a  very  agreeable 
shape.  Business,  Love  and  Religion  are  all  discussed,  and  many  proper  sentiments  ex 
pressed  in  regard  to  each.  The  "  moral"  of  the  work  is  summed  up  in  the  following  con 
cluding  sentences :  "  Adhere  steadfastly  to  your  business ;  adhere  steadfastly  to  your 
first  love;  adhere  steadfastly  to  the  church." 


To  Carpenters  and  Mechanics. 
Just  Published. 

A  NEW  AND  IMPROVED  EDITION  OF  THE 

CARPENTER'S  NEW  GUIDE, 

BEING  A  COMPLETE  BOOK  OF  LINES  FOR 

CARPENTRY    AND   JOINERY, 

Treating  fully  on  Practical  Geometry,  Saffit's  Brick  and  Plaster  Groins,  Niches  of  every 

description,  Sky-Lights,  Lines  for  Roofs  and  Domes,  with  a  great  variety  of  Designs 

for  Roofs,  Trussed  Girders,  Floors,  Domes,  Bridges,  &c.,  Angle  Bars  for  Shop 

Fronts,  &c.,  and  Raking  Mouldings. 

ALSO, 

Additional  Plans  for  various  Stair-Cases,  with  the  Lines  for  producing  the  Face  and  Fall 
ing  Moulds,  never  before  published,  and  greatly  superior  to  those  given  in 
a  former  edition  of  this  work. 

BY    WILLIAM    JOHNSON, 

ARCHITECT,  OF  PHILADELPHIA. 

THE  WHOLE  FOUNDED  ON  TRUE  GEOMETRICAL  PRINCIPLES; 
THE  THEORY  AND  PRACTICE 

Well  explained  and  fully  exemplified,  on  eighty-three  Copper  Plates,  including 
Observations  and  Calculations  on  the  Strength  of  Timber. 

BY    PETER    NICHOLSON, 

Author  of  "  The  Carpenter  and  Joiners'  Assistant,"  "  The  Student's  Instructor  to  the 
Five  Orders,"  &c. 

Thirteenth  Edition.    1  Vol.  4to. 
8 


THE  ERRORS  OF  MODERN  INFIDELITY, 

ILLUSTRATED    AND    REFUTED, 

BY  S.  M.  SCHMUCKER,  A.  M., 

In  One  Volume  1 2m o.,  cloth.    Just  Published. 

We  cannot  but  regard  this  work,  in  whatever  light  we  view  it  in  reference  to  its  de- 
eign,  as  one  of  the  most  masterly  productions  of  the  age,  and  fitted  to  unroot  one  of  the 
most  fondly  cherished  and  dangerous  of  all  ancient  or  modern  errors.  God  must  bless 
such  a  work,  armed  with  his  own  truth,  and  doing  fierce  and  successful  battle  against 
black  infidelity,  which  would  bring  His  Majesty  and  Word  down  to  the  tribunal  of  hu 
man  reason,  for  condemnation  and  annihilation. — Albany  Spectator. 


The  Child's  First  Book  in  Geography. 

BY  A  DISTINGUISHED  PRACTICAL  TEACHER. 

A  Small  Quarto,  illustrated  by  numerous  Maps,  on  a  new  and  improved  plan,  and  over 
one  hundred  Beautiful  and  Original  Cuts,  forming  the  most  complete  and  attractive 
Primary  Geography,  yet  published  in  this  country.  This  elementary  work,  as  also 
the  larger  School  Geography  named  below,  contains  as  much  or  more  Geographical 
information  and  better  arranged,  than  any  other  Geographies  now  used  in  the  schools 
of  this  country,  for  the  truth  of  which  the  publishers  particularly  request  all  teachers 
to  examine  for  themselves.  Copies  for  examination  will  be  furnished  gratis. 


SMITH'S  NEW  COMMON  SCHOOL  GEOGRAPHY, 

Illustrated  with  numerous  engravings,  and  particularly  adapted  for  all  Common  Schools, 
Academies,  &c.  This  is  a  new  work,  and  all  persons  ordering,  will  please  say,  Grigg, 
Elliot  &  Co.'s  Edition  of  Smith's  Geography. 

There  is  no  School  Book  ever  issued  from  the  American  press,  that  is  more  highly  re 
commended  than  this  invaluable  elementary  work ;  and  it  will  be  universally  introduced 
into  all  the  Private  and  Public  Schools  in  the  United  States,  if  real  merit  is  taken  into 
consideration,  and  all  Teachers  are  particularly  requested  to  give  it  a  candid  examination. 


WALKER'S  SCHOOL  DICTIONARY, 

New  Edition,  well  bound.  The  above  is  a  popular  Philadelphia  School  Edition,  printed 
from  New  Stereotype  Plates,  on  Fine  White  Paper,  and  well  boundj  and  has  been 
adopted  and  introduced  into  the  Public  Schools  of  Philadelphia. 

Chamber  of  the  Controllers  of  Public  Schools, 

First  School  District  of  Pennsylvania, 

Philadelphia,  March  15,  1848. 
At  a  meeting  ot  the  Controllers  of  Public  Schools,  First  School  District  of  Pennsylva 
nia,  held  at  the  Controllers'  Chamber,  on  Tuesday,  March  14th,  the  following  resolution 
was  adopted : 

Resolved,  That  "  Walker's  Critical  Pronouncing  Dictionary,"  published  by 
Grigg,  Elliot  &  Co.,  be  adopted  for  use  in  the  Public  Schools. 
Certified  from  the  Minutes. 

THOMAS  B.  FLORENCE,  Secretary. 
Messrs.  GRIGG,  ELLIOT  &  Co. 


THE     AMERICAN     MANUAL: 

Containing  a  Brief  Outline  of  the  Origin  and  Progress  of  Political  Power,  and  the  Laws 
of  Nations;  a  Commentary  on  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  of  North  America, 
and  a  lucid  Exposition  of  the  Duties  and  Responsibilities  of  Voters,  Jurors,  and  Civil 
Magistrates;  with  Questions.  Definitions,  and  Marginal  Exercises;  designed  to  de- 
velope  and  strengthen  the  Moral  and  Intellectual  Powers  of  Youth,  and  impart  an 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  nature  and  necessity  of  Political  Wisdom.  Adapted  to  the 
use  of  Schools,  Academies,  and  the  Public.  By  JOSEPH  BARTLETT  BURLEIGH,  A.  M., 
a  Member  of  the  Baltimore  Bar,  and  President  of  Newton  University. — ''REGNANT 
POPULI."  This  invaluable  work  has  received  the  highest  recommendations  from  many 
of  the  most  distinguished  and  practical  Teachers  in  this  country.  Teachers  w^ho  study 
the  welfare  and  improvement  of  their  pupils  will  examine  and  use  this  book. 

9 


AN  ETYMOLOGICAL 
DICTIONARY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE, 

Containing  the  Radicals  and  Definitions  of  Words  derived  from  the  Greek,  Latin,  and 
French  Languages;  and  all  the  generally  used  Technical  and  Polite  Phrases  adopted 
from  the  French  and  Latin.  Designed  chiefly  as  a  Book  of  Reference  for  professional 
men,  and  the  curious  in  Literature,  in  explaining  Words  and  Phrases,  the  origin  of 
which  requires  much  Historical  and  Philosophical  Research  ;  and  adapted  also  to  be 
used  as  an  Academical  Class  Book.  By  WILLIAM  GKIMSHAW,  author  of  a  History  of 
the  United  States,  History  of  England,  France,  &c.  Third  edition,  carefully  Revised 
and  Enlarged.  In  1  vol.  12mo. 


The  Life  of 

GENERAL  ZACHARY  TAYLOR, 

COMPRISING  A  NARRATIVE  OF  EVENTS  CONNECTED  WITH  HIS 

PROFESSIONAL  CAREER,  AND  AUTHENTIC  INCIDENTS 

OF  HIS  EARLY  YEARS. 

BY    J.    REESE   FRY    AND    R.    T.    CONRAD. 

WITH  AN  ORIGINAL  AND   ACCURATE   PORTRAIT,  AND  ELEVEN  ELEGANT  ILLUSTRA 
TIONS,  BY  BARLEY. 

In  one  handsome  12mo.  volume. 

It  is  by  far  the  fullest  and  most  interesting  biography  of  General  Taylor  that  we  have 
ever  seen. — Richmond  (Whig)  Chronicle. 

On  the  whole,  we  are  satisfied  that  this  volume  is  the  most  correct  and  comprehensive 
one  yet  published. — Hunt's  Merchants'  Magazine. 

"  The  superiority  of  this  edition  over  the  ephemeral  publications  of  the  day  consists 
in  fuller  and  more  authentic  accounts  of  his  family;  his  early  life  and  Indian  wars.  The 
narrative  of  his  proceedings  in  Mexico  is  drawn  partly  from  reliable  private  letters,  but 
chiefly  from  his  own  official  correspondence. 

"It  forms  a  cheap,  substantial  and  attractive  volume,  and  one  which  should  be  read 
at  the  fireside  of  every  family  who  desire  a  faithful  and  true  life  of  the  Old  General." 

N.  B.  Be  careful  to  order  Grigg,  Elliot  4-  Co.'s  Illustrated  Editions  of  those  works. 


JUST  PUBLISHED, 
Illustrated  Editions  of  the  following  Works: 

GENERAL  TAYLOR  AND  HIS  STAFF; 

COMPRISING   MEMOIRS  OF  GENERALS 

TAYLOR,  WORTH,  WOOL  AND  BUTLER: 

COLS.    MAY,    CROSS,    CLAY,    HARDIN,    YELL,    HAYS, 

AND 

OTHER  DISTINGUISHED  OFFICERS  ATTACHED  TO  GENERAL  TAYLOR'S  ARMY. 
INTERSPERSED  WITH 

NUMEROUS  ANECDOTES  OF  THE  MEXICAN  WAR, 

AND 

PERSONAL  ADVENTURES  OF  THE  OFFICERS. 
Compiled  from  Public  Documents  and  Private  Correspondence. 

WITH 

ACCURATE  PORTRAITS,  AND  OTHER  BEAUTIFUL  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

In  One  Volume,  12mo. 
10 


GENERAL  SCOTT  AND  HIS  STAFF; 

COMPRISING  MEMOIRS  OF  GENERALS 

SCOTT,  TWIGGS,  SMITH,  QU1TMAN,  SHIELDS, 

PILLOW.  LANE.  CADWALADER,    PATTERSON 

AND    PIERCE; 
COLS.  CHILDS,  FULEY,  HARNEY  AND   BUTLER, 

AND  OTHER 
DISTINGUISHED  OFFICERS  ATTACHED  TO  GENERAL  SCOTT'S  ARMY; 

TOGETHER    WITH 

Notices  of  General  Kearney,  Colonel  Doniphan,  Colonel  Fre 
mont,  and  other  Officers  distinguished  in  the  Conquest 
of  Calif ornia  and  New  Mexico. 

AND  PERSONAL  ADVENTURES  OF  THE  OFFICERS. 
Compiled  from  Public  Document*  and  Private  Correspondence, 

WITH 
ACCURATE  PORTRAITS,  AND  OTHER  BEAUTIFUL  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

In  one  volume,  12mo. 


CAMP  LIFE  OF  A  VOLUNTEER. 

A  CAMPAIGN  IN  MEXICO; 
OR,  A  GLIMPSE  AT  LIFE  IN  CAMP. 

BY  "ONE  WHO  HAS  SEEN  THE  ELEPHANT." 


SONGS    FOR    THE    PEOPLE. 
Edited  by  ALBERT  G,  EMERICK,  Professor  of  Music, 

Illustrated  with  NUMEROUS  ENGRAVINGS,  from  Original  Designs, 
BY  W.  CROOME  &  CO.     1  vol.  8vo.,  scarlet  cloth. 


LIFE    OF    PAUL  JONES. 

In  One  Volume  12mo.,  with  One  Hundred  Illustrations. 

"  Life  of  Rear  Admiral  John  Paul  Jones,v  &c.  &c.,  by  James  Hamilton.  The  work  is 
compiled  from  his  original  journals  and  correspondence  ;  and  includes  an  account  of  his 
services  in  the  American  Revolution,  and  in  the  war  between  the  Russians  and  Turks 
in  the  Black  Sea.  There  is  scarcely  any  Naval  Hero  of  any  age  who  combined  in  his 
character  so  much  of  the  adventurous,  skilful  and  daring,  as  Paul  Jones.  The  incidents 
of  his  life  are  almost  as  startling  and  absorbing  as  those  of  romance.  His  achievements 
during  the  American  Revolution — the  fight  between  the  Bon  Homme  Richard  and  Sera- 
pis,  the  most  desperate  naval  action  on  record,  and  the  alarm  into  which,  with  so  small 
a  force,  he  threw  the  coasts  of  England  and  Scotland,  are  matters  comparatively  well 
known  to  Americans;  but  the  incidents  of  his  subsequent  career  have  been  veiled  in 
obscurity,  which  is  dissipated  by  this  Biography.  A  book  like  this,  narrating  the  actions 
of  such  a  man,  ought  to  meet  with  an  extensive  sale,  and  become  as  popular  as  Robinson 
Crusoe  in  fiction,  or  Weems'1  Life  of  Marion  and  Washington,  and  similar  books  in  fact. 
It  contains  400  pages — has  a  handsome  portrait  and  medallion  likeness  of  Jones,  and  is 
illustrated  with  numerous  original  wood  engravings  of  naval  scenes  and  distinguished 
men  with  whom  he  was  familiar. 

L.  G.  Curtis,  Esq.,  editor  of  the  Commercial,  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  speaking  of  this  work 
&c.,  observes  :— •• k  Life  of  Rear  Admiral  Paul  Jones,  illustrated  with  numerous  engrav 
ings  from  original  drawings.'  This  book  we  prize  above  any  in  our  possession.  John 
Paul  Jones  was  truly  an  extraordinary  man.  He  had  the  honor  to  hoist  with  his  own 
hands  the  flag  of  freedom,  the  first  time  it  was  displayed  in  the  Delaware,  and  in  after 
life  declared  that  he  attended  it  with  veneration  ever  after.  To  Paul  Jones  the  honor  of 
raising  up  an  American  navy  belongs.  He  was  the  first  commander  in  the  world  who 
made  the  proud  flag  of  England  'come  down.'  His  life,  as  printed  by  Messrs.  Grigg, 
Elliot  &  Co.,  should  be  in  the  hands  of  every  intelligent  American." 

11 


The  Life  and  Opinions  of  Tristram  Shandy,  Gentleman. 

COMPRISING   THE  HUMOROUS  ADVENTURES  OF 

UNCLE   TOBY   AND    CORPORAL   TRIM. 

BY  L.  STERNE. 
Beautifully  illustrated  by  Darley,  stitched. 

A  SENTIMENTAL,  JOURNEY,  BY  JL.  STERNE. 

Illustrated  as  above,  by  Darlej,  stitched. 

The  beauties  of  this  author  are  so  well  known,  and  his  errors  in  style  and  expression 
so  few  and  far  between,  that  one  reads  with  renewed  de'.ig^this  Celicate  turns,  &c. 

THE   LIFE  OF   GENERAL   JACKSON, 
WITH  A  LIKENESS  OF  THE  OLD  HERO.    1  Volume  ISmo. 

A  COMPLETE  DICTIONARY 

POETICAL   QUOTATIONS: 

COMPRISING  THE    MOST   EXCELLENT   AND   APPROPRIATE   PASSAGES 

IN   THE 

OLD  BRITISH  POETS: 

WITH   CHOICE  AND  COPIOUS  SELECTIONS 

FROM    THE    BEST 

MODERN  BRITISH  AND  AMERICAN  POETS, 

EDITED   BY 

SARAH  JOSEPHA  HALE. 

As  nightingales  do  upon  glow-worms  feed, 
So  poets  live  upon  the  livin    liht 
Of  Mature  and  of  Beauty. 


Bailey's  Festus. 

Beautifully  illustrated  with  engravings.    In  one  super-  royal 
8vo.  volume,  in  various  bindings. 

The  publishers  extract,  from  the  many  highly  complimentary  notices  of  the  above  valuable  and 
beautiful  work,  the  following  : 

"  We  have  at  last  a  volume  of  Poetical  Quotations  worthy  of  the  name.  It  contains  nearly  six  hun 
dred  octavo  pases,  carefully  and  tastefully  selected  from  all  the  home  and  foreign  authors  of  celebrity. 
It  is  in  valuable'  to  a  writer,  while  to  the  ordinary  reader  it  presents  every  subject  at  a  glance."—  Godey's 
Lady's  Book. 

"The  plan  or  idea  of  Mrs.  Hale's  work  is  felicitous.  It  is  one  for  which  her  fine  taste,  her  orderly 
habits  of  mind,  and  her  long  occupation  with  literature,  has  given  her  peculiar  facilities  ;  and  thoroughly 
has  she  accomplished  her  task  in  the  work  before  us."—  Sartain's  Magazine. 

"  It  is  a  choice  collection  of  poetical  extracts  from  every  English  and  American  author,  worth  perus 
ing.  from  the  days  of  Chaucer  to  the  present  time."  —  Washington  Union. 

"  Its  graceful  editress,  in  her  short,  preface,  thus  speaks,  and  most  truly,  of  its  contents  :  "  Whatever 
is  loveliest  in  sentiment  and  loftiest  in  aspiration  is  here  represented  :  specimens  of  the  varied  forms 
in  which  gifted  minds  have  contributed  to  the  polish  of  wit,  the  beauty  of  wisdom,  the  sweetness  of 
love,  the  power  of  patriotism,  the  holiness  of  piety  —  all  that  has  most  deeply  stirred  the  soul  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon  race  for  the  last  three  hundred  years,  is  here  embodied  "  It  contains  copious  selections 
from  all  the  standard  British  and  American  Poets  upon  almost  every  subject  within  the  range  of  thought. 
The  subjects  are  arranged  alphabetically,  and  a  "  Table  of  Contents"  at  the  commencement  reuders 
reference  to  them  perfectly  easy."  —  New  Hampshire  Patriot. 

"There  is  notliing  negative  about  this  work  ;  it  is  positively  good."  —  Evening  Bulletin. 


***  Public,  private  and  social  libraries,  and  all  who  purchase  to  sell  again,  supplied  on 
the  most  reasonable  terms  with  every  article  in  the  Book  and  Stationery  line  ;  including 
iit'W  novels,  and  all  new  works  in  every  department  of  literature  and  science. 

[£/"  Particular  attention  will  also  be  paid  to  all  orders,  through  country  merchants,  or 
by  mail,  for  Law,  Medical  and  Miscellaneous  Books,  for  public  and  private  libraries, 
and  no  effort  will  be  spared  to  complete  all  such  orders  on  the  most  reasonable  terms. 

12 


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